


Glittering Prizes And Endless Compromises

by rockstarpeach



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Bottom Jared, Daddy Kink, Exhibitionism, F/M, Hooker Jensen, Jared Wants To Rescue Him Anyway, Jealous Jared, Jensen Does Not Need Rescuing, Jensen and Misha are BFF, M/M, Multiple Partners, Oral Sex, Pining Jared, Recreational Drug Use, Rimming, Smoking, Switch Jared, Switch Jensen, Voyeurism, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-03 23:53:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 47,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1760063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockstarpeach/pseuds/rockstarpeach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared's in love with Jensen.  The only problem is, Jensen's a hooker and Jared can't really afford him.  It's a good thing he's so darn cute, because despite Jared's meagre finances, they strike up a business relationship that was only ever an excuse to become more than that.  They're head over heels for each other, so it should be their happily ever after, right?  Turns out it's harder than Jared expected, having a hooker for a boyfriend.  Jensen on the other hand, saw this coming.</p><p>Art by the <i>amazing</i> amber1960.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glittering Prizes And Endless Compromises

**Author's Note:**

> Note 1: I started this fic four years ago and it was back then that I started to map things out in my head, how I wanted this to shape up. So basically all my kinks/tropes are nearly half a decade out of date and this can basically be read as a kink fic without really very much of the kink. Don't go looking for some deeper meaning here; this is pretty much just id, folks, with some slight plot and emotional arc creeping around the edges. But hopefully it's fun!
> 
> Note 2: Last year, for my BB I wrote a sort-of love triangle between Jensen and Jared and Misha where Jensen ends up with Jared. And this year I didn't quite write that, but there is some Jensen/Misha and it is definitely a J2 fic. That does not mean I don't like Misha, it doesn't mean I want to send flying monkeys after him or toss him into a volcano and I sure as hell don't have some kind of whacked out agenda to get him written off the show. So please, please crazy Misha fans*, please don't get even crazier than normal and passive aggressively ask me why J2 fans hate Misha, or tell me that I'm psychotic and delusional because I think Jensen and Jared are fucking (when clearly is Jensen and Misha who are). We all know - _hopefully_ we all know – that this is fiction.  
>  *I do not think ALL Misha fans are crazy. Most of them are lovely, reasonable, delightful people. Heck, I'm one of them and... okay, bad example :P

Jared thinks maybe he’s a little bit in love. And he knows that would be a more accurate statement if he took out the _maybe_ and the _little bit_ parts, because Jared is really and truly head over heels. It’s the first time it’s ever happened to him and logically he knows that it’s probably more infatuation at this point, but his heart doesn’t believe that for a second and his dick refuses to even consider it.

Sadly, the object of his affections doesn’t know he exists. 

He’s almost talked to him a few times, when he’s passed him on the way into work, or when the guy had come into the store to buy a box of condoms or a cup of coffee, but Jared doesn’t really know what he’d say, so he’s mostly been content to just worship him from afar. Or, really close by and yet completely unnoticed, in that creepy stalker kind of way.

Jared will peek around the corner into the alley out back when he’s pretending to throw away garbage or get some fresh air, watch as the man of his dreams (wet and otherwise) is backed into the wall by some kid. The same kid at the same time every week – half past ten, every Wednesday, like clockwork and even when Craig doesn’t call him in, Jared goes anyway because he can’t fucking miss this. 

He'll watch, rapt and mesmerized as a skinny seventeen year old in a bomber jacket (who's probably just dropped his girlfriend off at home) sinks to his knees. He'll watch and he'll whimper and he'll feel himself harden in his value brand chinos as the kid sucks down the most perfect dick Jared has ever seen. He'll watch, when after he's done the kid gets up and pushes a few bills into the pocket that has the title of ‘best pocket ever’ solely because it’s attached to the pants being worn by the most gorgeous man in the world. He'll watch the kid cop one last feel before he leaves.

Every week, the same thing. And then Jared will jerk off in the employee washroom.

Or Jared will absently arrange Batman comics where the Cheetos should go and watch through the window as his dream guy gets into car after car, comes back later – sometimes a couple of hours, sometimes only a couple of minutes – and he’s always smiling at the men after, always that grin that promises more of the same, any time they want, as long as they can afford it.

He’s not sure what the guy would say if Jared just asked him out on a regular date. Do hookers date? He doesn’t know, but he’s almost scared to find out. And unfortunately for Jared, there’s no way in hell he can afford it.

He’s fresh out of high school and the comforting warmth of his parent’s home, his bank account showing a pathetic sum of money as he works sixty hours a week and gets by on canned tuna, boxed mac and cheese and cheap vodka that he’s not old enough to buy, but Craig sells to him anyway.

Mostly he works as a clerk in the video shop at the end of the block, but sometimes he helps out at the rundown convenience store a few buildings over from his apartment. That’s rarer though, once or twice a week if he’s lucky and usually only when one of Craig’s regular guys calls in sick. Or hospitalised with a gunshot wound.

Jared doesn’t exactly live in the best neighbourhood.

And even though it makes him a horrible, horrible person, he hopes for those days.

Not that he wants anyone slowly bleeding to death from the abdomen, or delirious with fevers they can’t really afford drugs for. But those times, when he stops by _Star Convenience_ early in the morning for some milk (which he gets half price because the _best before_ date was yesterday) and Craig asks him if he can stop by for a couple hours after he finishes renting out _Mallrats_ to the same guy for the eighth week in a row, Jared’s dick always jumps a little.

Because he knows he’ll get to see _him_ again.

Some business owners would discourage a small group of prostitutes (one of whom doesn’t look like she could be more than sixteen) from hanging around outside their store, but Craig thinks they actually attract more customers than they scare off. Besides, he makes a lot of money off their business. The pregnant one smokes a lot.

***

Jared finds out his name roughly two months after he’s moved to town. 

“Hey man,” he starts, forced, nervous smile pasted on as he tries to calm his shaky voice. Tonight's the night. They’re going to have an actual conversation, introduce themselves and if Jared can stop himself from blurting out ‘Will you marry me?’ maybe it’ll go well enough that they can try it again sometime. 

He’s on his way to pick up a stray shift at the convenience store and the guy is standing outside like he usually is, one foot kicked up against the wall, shoulders relaxed with a half-drunk bottle of beer hanging loosely from the fingers of his right hand. 

Jared swallows and slows his pace, trying not to trip over his own feet as he comes to a stop next to Mr. Perfect. He stands there like an idiot while the guy turns his face to Jared, smiles at him and it’s all Jared can do not to drop his pants right there.

“Hey,” the guy says back and it’s honey and sex and Jared blinks a few times before he realises it’s his turn to talk.

“Pretty warm for May, huh?”

Which is a stupid thing to say. Epic levels of stupid. Because first of all – of course it’s fucking warm for May. Jared hasn’t bothered putting on a sweater yet this spring, and the most perfect hooker ever is wearing a too-tight, too-thin t-shirt that rides up a little at the waist and his jeans are slung way too low. That couldn’t possibly be comfortable if it was chilly.

Also? Not even close to what he wanted to say.

“Yeah,” the guy says, smile dropping a little and he looks at Jared like maybe he’d only ended up there because he'd gotten on the wrong bus, or something. It’s obviously not what he was expecting Jared to say. “Cozy.”

That’s a little discouraging but Jared doesn’t let it get to him. This is the day he learns his name so he can imagine it embossed in silver next to his own on white wedding invitations. Or, you know. Just shout it out in his bedroom, when he jerks off thinking about all the things they could get up to together.

“I’m Jared,” he says, hand twitching at his side while he thinks about holding it out for the guy to shake. He aborts the gesture and just looks like he’s got a nervous tick. Fucking perfect.

“I’m…” the guy says, starts to answer and his smile hasn’t gone completely, but he’s still looking at Jared like he’s not quite sure if Jared wants to offer him money for sex, or ask for directions. 

And then a car pulls up. Shiny and red and waxed to perfection and it's a friggin’ Cadillac, and Jared’s mouth goes a little dry.

“Maybe next time, huh?” the guy says, looking past Jared like he's not even there. The guy's smiling then, genuinely. Like he's happy about that stupid red car and the middle-aged man inside. “I gotta take this.”

And then he’s gone.

Jared’s still staring at the empty space on the road the car left behind, wondering what the fuck had just happened while he curses red Eldorados everywhere, when he nearly jumps out of his skin.

“I’ll blow you for fifty.”

The voice startles Jared out of his daze and he starts, jumps and thinks maybe he’s stood there so long he’s late for work. And then the words register.

He blinks a few times and shakes himself, looks at the guy who made the offer and considers that if he had fifty bucks on him, he’d probably pay it.

The guy’s not bad looking. Dark hair where the man of his dreams has a lighter brown and he's got a slimmer build and blue, blue eyes to his dream man's green. He's undeniably handsome with thin, glossy lips to Dream Guy's full, dry ones and Jared figures it would probably be a pretty great blowjob. Even if it wasn’t who he wanted. Even if it wasn’t Dream Guy’s lips wrapped around him and Jared’s hand in his hair, or Dream Guy's cock up Jared’s ass with Jared flat on his back, or Dream Guy's face down on Jared’s tiny little twin-sized bed, begging.

So yeah, scratch that. It would suck. He’s ruined, he knows that. He only wants one thing.

Fuck, Jared is so gone.

“Alright, forty,” the guy says, shrugging. 

Jared shakes his head, trying to focus on the current conversation. 

“And that’s a serious discount, so I’d take it if I were you. I got people coming in soon that’ll pay a lot more than that.” His eyes are smiling even while his mouth turns down and as he leans just slightly forward into Jared's space, blinks slowly and licks his lips. Jared's breath catches. Yeah, he can get why people would pay to fuck this guy.

“Thanks, but uh…”

“That’s what I thought,” the guy sighs, shakes his head like he's anything but disappointed, but pretending to be just that. “I’m Misha, by the way.”

“Hello Misha,” Jared answers, because it’s only polite. Besides, he likes this guy’s voice and maybe if he’s nice, the voice will tell all about the man of his dreams. “I’m Jared.”

Misha rolls his eyes and Jared blushes, because he has the terrible suspicion this Misha guy is reading his mind.

“He’s Jensen,” Misha says. “And you can’t afford him.”

“I don’t…” Jared starts, shaking his head, ready to deny his undying love because suddenly he’s, stupidly, overwhelmingly embarrassed. He’s head over heels in love with a fucking hooker he's never even met, a hooker who just blew him off for some shithead in a nice car. And he feels like a tool.

“Save it, kid,” Misha tells him. “Everybody wants Jensen. He’s good at his job. And for people like you, the price goes up.”

“People like me?” What the hell does that mean? Jared kind of doesn't want to know how he's coming across to Misha, to _Jensen_. Like some dumb, drooling, over-eagre kid with a crush, no doubt. Well, he can't really say they're wrong. “I don’t… What does that even mean?” 

“People that think they love him,” Misha says, simply. “He knows he’s good at what he does, those fucking eyes of his and those lips. Fuck, there were a few dread-filled months where I thought _I_ was in love with him. But it passed, thank God. I couldn’t handle loving someone that pretty. My wallet couldn’t handle it either.”

Misha talks with an odd combination of dryness and wistfulness and Jared doesn’t bother telling him that he’s full of shit. Looks like Jared isn’t the only one with a crush.

“So…” Jared hedges, because he already looks like an idiot and if he can find out anything at all about Jensen (and it’s such a damn nice name that Jared wants to call all their children Jensen) then he’s going for it. “That guy that pulled up…”

“Jeff,” Misha says immediately, shuddering. “Likes for Jensen to call him ‘Daddy’ while he spanks Jensen’s ass with a paddle.”

“Uh…” Jared says. “Yeah, that’s…” Not really what he thought Misha would tell him.

He blinks, turns and walks into the store without another word.

***

It’s two weeks later and Jared has seriously considered moving. Giving up his mostly clean and vermin-free apartment to rent out the rat-infested shithole above the store, just so he can watch Jensen, unnoticed, even on the nights he doesn’t work.

He doesn’t though, which is something.

He’s leaving the store one night, after he’s already seen Jensen take off around the corner with someone, and Misha is there.

“How much?”

“I told you,” Misha says, smiling. “Fifty for a blow job.”

“No, I mean… for Jensen. You said I couldn’t afford it.” And he was probably right. Jared can’t fucking afford a television set, so he's got to mooch the newest episodes of _Friends_ off his big sister's cable plan, but he’s got to know anyway. 

“He doesn’t take less than two hundred.” Misha’s tone is light, matter of fact, like he hadn’t offered to suck Jared off for a quarter that amount. “But like I said, if he knows he can get it, he’ll charge more. Jeff pays more.”

“Two…” Jared starts, ignoring the part about Jeff because Jared hates him on principle, and holy fuck. Yeah, he guesses that’s not really a lot of money for sex. Sure, a lot of people take less but he knows that a lot of people charge more, too. Still, it’s an order of magnitude higher than Jared’s disposable income for the entire month.

He could save up he supposes, but at the rate he’s saving it’s gonna take way too long. Besides, Jared knows he’s going to want more than a blow job and who knows how much _that’s_ going to cost him.

He’s still trying to figure it out when he watches Misha grin at a man across the street, who’s wearing a pair of sunglasses even though it’s past midnight. Jared recognises him immediately as the guy that delivers Chinese from Wang’s Kitchen. He’s one of Misha’s regulars.

***

“Do you take instalments?” Jared asks, words coming out before he can even think about them when he sees Jensen one afternoon at the supermarket. And it’s yet another stupid thing to say, a _seriously_ stupid thing to say, but sometimes Jared’s mouth doesn’t wait for his brain to catch up. It’s especially stupid because they haven’t even exchanged one word since Jared made a fool of himself three and half weeks ago and Jensen blew him off.

Jared’s been watching him though and he's pretty sure Jensen knows it. Jensen’s caught him, a few times. The very next Wednesday night, when Jared poked his head around the corner at half past ten, Jensen looked straight at him, licked his lips and kept on looking at him as he mumbled dirty words of encouragement to the kid on his knees.

When Jensen came all over the kid’s face, pushing some of the mess into his mouth with the pad of his thumb, he winked at Jared and Jared came in his pants. He hadn’t even realised until that second that he’d been rubbing the palm of his hand over his cock, right there where Jensen could see.

Jensen coughs, puts down the lemon he was holding and turns around. His lips quirk up in a way that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle with humour. Jared would swoon, if he didn’t think maybe that would be inappropriate in public.

“For the lemons?” Jensen asks, raising his eyebrow and his smile grows. It takes Jared a moment to remember what they were talking about. And then Jensen cocks his head slightly toward Jared and his voice gets even warmer, softer and Jared can’t even think of anything to say because his dick is suddenly, achingly hard. 

“They’re going on sale next week, but you didn’t hear it from me,” he tells Jared, overly low and quiet, like it’s a huge secret. He’s still smiling. Jensen is making fun of him, and he doesn’t even care, because at least Jensen is _talking_ to him.

It’s only then that Jared notices the dark green apron Jensen is wearing and he realises that Jensen isn’t _shopping_ for lemons, he’s _stacking_ them. Jensen works in the produce department at Trader Joe’s during the day, and sells his ass at night.

Huh.

It’s a disjointed picture, but hey, whatever.

And now’s his chance. Now they’re talking, having a conversation that’s not about hooking. Because Jared doesn’t think Jensen wants to talk about hooking at his day job, in case someone doesn’t know and he gets into trouble. Now’s when Jared can tell Jensen that he’s the most beautiful man Jared’s ever seen and his smile lights up a dirty alley like nothing else and can Jared please take him out on a date and have his babies?

But he says none of those things. He’s really starting to think there’s something seriously wrong with him.

“Thanks for the tip,” he mumbles and shoves a few avocados into his bag before he turns and runs. He doesn’t even fucking _like_ avocados. He dumps them onto a stack of cucumbers two rows over, when he's out of Jensen's sight. He can't afford them anyway.

***

“I have eighty-three bucks,” Jared says, his hand pressing down against his back pocket to make sure his wallet is still there. It’s not a lot of money, but Jared cleaned out his bank account earlier that day and if he loses it he’s _fucked_. And not by Jensen.

“Good for you,” Jensen answers, but his smile is one Jared recognises. Honest and warming and one Jared has never seen him use on anyone but Misha, while they’re talking, sharing a beer and a joint and joking around in between customers.

“What’ll it buy me?” Jared knows he sounds desperate, he feels stupid, but he doesn’t care. He won’t be able to call his mom this month because he won’t be able to afford the minutes and he’ll have to beg out of going to the movies the next three Fridays with Chad from the video store and if he wants a buzz he’ll have drink the apple juice that’s been in the fridge since the previous tenant moved out of his place, but he doesn’t care.

“I know it’s not enough for…” Jared trails off, suddenly feeling shy about discussing the details. “But I mean, it’s gotta be enough for something. Right?”

Jensen looks at him for a few seconds. A few seconds more. A few seconds after that Jared’s getting ready to leave – the spot he’s rooted to, the block, fuck, the town probably, he feels like such a complete jackass.

And then Jensen’s leaning in and kissing him. His lips are stupidly soft and the press is gentle and then Jensen slides his tongue out, just the barest sweep across Jared’s lower lip before he’s pulling back and Jesus fucking Christ, if that was it? If that one, four second kiss is going to cost Jared eighty-three dollars, it is so Goddamn worth it.

“You,” Jensen says tilting his head down and his eyes up, and his lashes are thick and beautiful and they _flutter_ even though Jensen isn’t trying, “are the cutest fucking thing I have ever seen.”

“Um… thanks?” Jared says, and reaches into his pocket for his wallet. He fingers out the money and hands it to a grinning Jensen. And then he stands there, because now what? Was that it? Is he supposed to leave now, or negotiate for more?

“Eighty-three bucks?” Jensen asks, eyeing the money before he slips it into his pocket.

“Yeah. It’s all I’ve got. And I mean _all_ I’ve got. Is that…”

“You busy right now?” And Jensen is sliding a tiny bit closer, hip brushing up against Jared distractingly. He eyes the door to the store behind them like he’s wondering if Jared has to work.

 _No_ , Jared wants to answer. _I’ll never ever be busy again, ever, if I can just stay here and stare at you. And then maybe fuck you over the hood of that Pinto that’s been abandoned around the corner since I moved into the neighbourhood_. What he actually says is “Um…” He is so smooth.

“Come on,” Jensen says, putting an arm around Jared’s waist and slipping his hand into Jared’s front pocket.

“Where are we going?” Jared asks, and if Jensen tells him it’s somewhere they can fuck for the next rest of his life, Jared will die happy.

“Don’t worry Jared,” Jensen tells him and Jared gets warm all over because Jensen _said his name_. “I’ll have you home by morning.”

***

“ _Fuck_ , my ass hurts,” Jared grumbles. He wriggles and he pouts as he shifts his hips experimentally, stretches to works out some of the kinks in his back and his neck and his arms. He groans and winces when he pulls his knees up and Jensen almost feels a pang a sympathy for him, until he turns his head to shoot Jensen an accusatory glare as he gingerly sits up on the edge of the beat-up double bed.

Jared grabs a handful of the threadbare blankets that bunched up on top of them after they passed out half an hour ago and he yanks. He lets go and sends them flying onto the floor at the foot of the bed, leaving them both naked and a little bit cold. The central heating in this apartment hasn't worked for as long as Jensen's been using it. Jared scowls and Jensen laughs, because the kid just doesn’t get any less adorable, even when he’s copping a ridiculous attitude. 

God, Jensen's an idiot for taking him home. He's an idiot for kissing Jared last night on the street outside the convenience store, Jared's last eighty-three dollars tucked into his pocket and he's an idiot for spending _six damn hours_ with him, when he could have been out making some real money.

“Don’t look at me like that, man,” Jensen says. He widens his eyes and quirks his lips up, holds his hands in front of him so his palms are facing Jared in surrender. “You were the one who kept saying ‘harder, harder’. I was just doin’ my job.”

Jared chuckles and ducks his head, a blush spreading across his cheeks that Jensen just barely manages not to kiss away. That would be unprofessional. “Please tell me you’re at least feeling it, too?”

Jensen smiles back. Honestly, he’s not. Jared fucked him pretty good during that third round – after Jensen blew him on the kitchen table and then fucked him doggy style, Jared's face buried in the pillow, his head knocking against the headboard with each one of Jensen's brutal thrusts – but Jensen takes it up the ass professionally and Jared’s impressive but he’s not _that_ impressive.

Jensen’s dealt with bigger and more importantly, _rougher_ ; when Jared's the one doing the fucking, he's kind of a teddy bear.

Still, Jared’s a client, albeit not a very well paying one, and Jensen has a job to do.

Okay, so that's kind of a big fat lie because let’s face it, he pretty much gave Jared a freebie last night. Jensen has never been into self-denial. He’s completely comfortable admitting to himself that he thinks Jared is cuter than fuck, that he's noticed Jared noticing him the past few months and that when Jared finally got up the nerve to make what in his awkward, fumbling way passed for a move, he was so damn _sweet_ that Jensen slipped up.

He's comfortable admitting that he might have a bit of a crush, that he'd led with his heart last night instead of his wallet and that’s the real reason he spent the night with Jared. Eighty-three dollars probably could have bought the kid a quick hand job up against the wall, but sure as hell not a blow job, two rounds of anal sex and a fucking _nap_.

But eighty-three dollars was all the money Jared had in the world, all the money he'd managed to save up working two minimum wage jobs and honestly, Jensen could afford it.

“Mmm, yeah. I'll be feeling that for days,” he says, shooting Jared an empty, flirty smile. The words roll right off his tongue, something he’s said a hundred times before. Usually to one of his older clients, someone with a lot of money and very little power. Usually someone with a small dick. 

Lying is easy. Lying gets him bigger tips and repeat business and Jensen loves his regulars. The same johns every time means he doesn't have to take on as many new customers, doesn't have to take as many chances that someone new is going to want something extremely fucked up from him, want to hurt him or try to rob him. Or, be a cop. Whoring is easy and lucrative (and fun, sometimes) but it's not exactly the safest profession in the world.

This time though, the lie sort of turns his stomach. Something about the way Jared's eyes go soft and crinkled at the edges when he smiles and the way his lashes flutter when he blinks, slowly makes Jensen want to not let him down. Something about the shy flush of pink across Jared's cheeks and the way he cocks his head down makes Jensen want to tell the truth.

The truth is, he had a great time last night. The truth is, he wasn't really on the clock and they both know that. But, Jensen hasn't had a personal romantic relationship since he started hooking more than a year ago and he's not about to start now. No, he's going to treat this like business, even if he has to pretend.

“I might need to take tonight off,” he says, making his movements overly slow and careful as he pushes himself up so that he's sitting, back resting against the headboard. He puts one foot flat on the bed, bends his knee to rest his arm across it while his legs causally fall open, his soft, used up cock lying spent and thick against the inside of his thigh. 

Jared blinks, looks down at it and licks his lips. His eyes go hooded for a moment and he actually leans in, like he's drawn to it for a moment before Jensen chuckles a little and Jared jerks and sits up straight again, smiling.

“I hope not, man,” he says, blush spreading down the back of his neck as he rubs his hands nervously along the tops of his own thighs. “Shit, was I too rough? I already feel guilty about you charging me so little. If I cost you a night’s pay on top of that?” He pauses and shrugs and it really is so fucking adorable that Jensen sort of wants to hug him. “I’d feel like complete shit.”

Well that figures. Most guys get off on that. Not on hurting Jensen, not that. There have been a couple of men over the months that have wanted to, asked or even tried to push when Jensen said _no_ , but Jensen knows how to take care of himself. No, most guys get off on thinking that they're big and strong and they fuck like machines, on thinking that Jensen will be thinking about _them_ the next time he's with a client. It's an ego boost, they don’t mope over it. Jared is one of a fucking kind. At some other point in his life, Jensen could really get into that.

“Seriously,” Jensen says with a warm smile, leaning across the bed to rest his forehead briefly against Jared’s. He pulls back with a quick kiss, shaking his head. “Cutest fucking thing, ever. Christ man, you’re gonna ruin me.”

Jared’s answering smile is bashful, but no less blinding for it. 

Jensen takes a split second to consider giving Jared his money back for the night – Hell, the kid obviously needs it more than he does – but that might send the wrong message. He’s not looking to start dating, not even someone as sweet and gorgeous and achingly _nice_ as Jared seems to be. _Especially_ not someone like that.

So he won’t give him a refund, it will only complicate things, but he’ll feel guilty about it. He can’t not, because Jared obviously needs to pinch every last penny, and Jensen… doesn’t.

The thing is, this place? This 400 square foot, one room apartment they spent the night in, with a half-broken space heater in the corner and cracks in the drywall and mismatched chairs at the wobbly kitchen table? It’s not his.

Okay, technically it is. Or, at least it's half his. It's his and it's Misha's in the sense that they spend six hundred dollars a month to rent it out, but it’s not where they live.

They work in this neighbourhood, sure. They'd once considered going legit – or at least as close to it as hookers can get. When they were talking about the possibility of Jensen starting out in this business they'd bounced around the idea of getting a job with a high-class escort service, but Jensen didn't want a legitimate, traceable job history that included 'prostitute'. And really, nobody ever believes those 'escorts' don't fuck for a little extra cash at the end of the night, even when they really _don't_.

And Jensen very much would have.

Besides, Jensen wouldn't even have known where to _start_ looking for a job like that. The way they do it is easier anyway, Jensen thinks. He likes not having a boss.

So, they keep a cheap apartment in an even cheaper part of town and charge five times as much as anyone else working in this neighbourhood when assholes from the suburbs feel like slumming.

They sometimes take lower-paying clients, obviously. Misha more than Jensen (because the twisted fucker kind of gets off on it) but they both do it. Not for the money, but for the appearance. When the rich boys cruise their block, they like to feel like they’re doing Jensen and Misha a favour. Everybody likes to play the hero, even johns looking for a quick BJ.

Hell, if they did the same job in their own neighbourhood they probably wouldn’t make half as much.

They keep pretty tight-lipped about that information, though. None of the other whores they hang out with knows that they were actually both doing pretty okay for themselves even before they started hooking. They don't know that Jensen’s only doing this because it pays well and he's trying to save up for business school, maybe a store front if he's lucky, so he can avoid another huge loan. And Jensen's the only one who knows that Misha is set to inherit millions.

“I guess I should... get going,” Jared offers, after Jensen tucks a stray strand of Jared's hair behind his ear. Jared giggles and leans into it when Jensen tickles the shell with the tips of his fingers. “I... Thank you.”

He stands then and starts to dress in the clothing that Jensen stripped him of last night and hastily discarded onto the kitchen floor. Jensen stands up as well, steps into his own boxers and then leans against the wall to watch as Jared bends over to pick up his jeans. Nice view. _Damn_ nice view. Shit.

“I know this wasn't...” Jared starts, frowns and pulls his t-shirt over his head. “I know I'm thinking about this as more than it was.” He pauses again and ducks his head, chuckles to himself. “I've been following you around for months, I don't know if you noticed...”

Jensen chuckles then, too, because yes, yes he'd noticed.

“Anyway,” Jared goes on, embarrassed. “You did something nice for me, I know that and I want you to know that I really appreciate it. So... thanks again, Jensen.”

Jensen smiles and pushes off the wall, walks closer to Jared, slowly. He takes one of Jared's hands in his, draws it up gently to his mouth and presses a soft kiss against Jared's knuckles.

“It was my pleasure, Jared,” he says. And it was. He could say more, but he doesn't. He steps back and guides Jared toward the door and once they've crossed the four feet of living space between the fridge and the entrance, Jared stops and turns.

“That’s… Is that your real name? Jensen?” he asks.

Jensen narrows his eyes for a second, debating but then opens his mouth to answer. He’s cut off by Jared shaking his head and turning away, adjusting the hang of his shirt over his belt buckle.

“I’m sorry, that was… You don’t have to answer that. Of course it’s not your real name. Why would you share that kind of thing with someone like me? I mean, I don’t…”

“Jared,” Jensen says, the word coming out full of good-natured humour and Jared snaps his mouth shut. “Is _your_ real name Jared?”

Jared nods. “Jared Padalecki,” he says. “My folks live two towns over, but I moved here after I graduated high school. I wouldn't go to college, like they wanted and they kicked me out. No, wait, that's not... They didn't _kick me out_ like...” He pauses and frowns, squints and narrows his eyebrows and balls his hands up in fists in front of his thighs, mock-threatening. “ _You're not our son anymore, we never want to see you again_ kind of kicked out. More like... _You think you're an adult, go out and prove it_. And um... my big sister lives across town so here seemed like a good place and I don't really know what I want to do yet, if I _do_ want to go to college or get a real job someplace, but...” He trails off when he catches Jensen's wide smile, and ducks his head. “Sorry.”

“Yes, Jensen is my real name,” he tells him, kicking a little at Jared's sock foot with his own bare toes, teasingly. “But it’ll take a hell of a lot more than eighty-three bucks to get any more information than that.”

Jared looks down and laughs, shakes his head as he slips into his shoes.

“Fair enough,” he says, as he pulls the door open and steps out in the hall. “So I'll see you? You know... around, or whatever?”

“You know where to find me,” Jensen agrees and he stands still and accepts one final, chaste kiss on the lips before Jared starts down the stairwell. He watches the dark mop of messy, floppy hair disappear around the bend before he lets out a slow puff of breath and closes the door to get dressed.

Twenty minutes and a thirty-three dollar cab ride later, Jensen is home.

***

Jensen wakes up some hours later, after slapping the snooze button on his alarm close to a dozen times.

He hasn’t been out that late in a damn long while and he knows he’s already slept through his morning workout with Misha at the gym downstairs. They’re never up for breakfast but a glance at the clock when he's finally alert enough to focus tells him that he’s also too late for lunch.

Fuck. He rolls out of bed and darts across the hall into the shower, purposefully not glancing toward the living room where he can hear the tinny, electric ringing of cheering crowds and catchy melodies that tell him his roommate has already broken out the Nintendo 64. Jensen prefers _Mario Kart_ , but when Misha gets to pick, he always picks _Wave Racer_.

Jensen washes quickly, soaps up and lets his hand linger over his cock while his mind flashes back to several hours earlier, when he'd had Jared spread out underneath him, but it doesn't linger for long. He came twice last night and he's got to work in a few hours, so he sure as hell doesn't need the relief, not right now.

He's got other things he needs to think about. Normal things, every day things. Life things.

He goes over his grocery list in his head as he washes, scrubs sweat and dried come and lube from under his fingernails and the hair at the base of his cock and low on his belly. He reminds himself to call his parents later on, to see if they got the flowers he sent them for their anniversary as he scrubs his hair clean and while he rinses the suds from his body and down the drain he smiles, and wonders if Jared's working tonight at _Star Convenience_ or _Trendz Video_. He wonders if he'll get to see him later, or if he'll have to wait and he thinks about wearing his good shirt, the green one that's tight across the chest and brings out his eyes, just in case.

He rolls his eyes at himself as he shuts off the water, reminds himself as he pulls on a pair of comfortable pants, that despite Jared's puppy love and Jensen's own sort-of crush, thinking those kinds of thoughts is a _bad_ idea. The last relationship he'd attempted fell apart just after he started hooking. It fell apart _hard_.

No, he reminds himself, stepping out into the living room. Jared was just business.

“You were out late,” Misha says, voice teasing and light. He looks at Jensen with a knowing glint in his eye. Honest to God, that's how Misha described it once, over a year ago when he gave Jensen that same look over one of his missing porn tapes. _'The fuck's wrong with your face?' 'This? It's my knowing glint. You might as well fess up_. Christ. Who even talks like that? “Have a good time with the kid?”

Jensen tugs at the waist of his grey sweatpants, pulling them up over the jut of his hips and scratches his fingers absently over his bare belly.

“Ugh,” he grunts, still groggy even after his shower and flops down on the couch next to Misha. “Yeah, I guess. Same old same old, you know?”

He reaches across the table and picks up Misha’s half-eaten bowl of _Cap'n Crunch_ and finishes it off without a word while Misha raises a dry eyebrow.

Misha snorts and kicks Jensen in the shin when he grabs his coffee and drains the rest of the mug in one swallow. “Yeah. I had to satisfy a client in the stairwell at two in the morning because you were in the apartment. _Still_. And what did he pay you again? A grand? Two? That's what you usually charge for the whole night, right?”

“Shut up,” Jensen grumbles. “He's a sweet kid, I had a good time. You gonna make a big deal out of it?”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“Jesus, Misha,” Jensen scowls. He pushes back into the couch and kicks his legs up so his feet land in Misha's lap. Misha lets out a sharp bark of laughter but he starts to obediently rub his thumb into the arches of Jensen's tired feet nonetheless. Jensen moans like it's sex. Fuck, it's _better_ than most of the sex Jensen has, these days.

“It wasn't a date,” he goes on. “It was just... _God_ right there. It was just some fun. I'm counting it as a night off.”

Misha laughs a little at that.

They don't work every night; they don't have to. Three or four nights a week and they've got more than enough to live off, plus a decent amount to put away. Another year, Jensen thinks, working like this and he'll have enough saved up. And Misha, he can quit any time he wants. He's got enough money coming to him that he'll never have to work a day in his life, not at any job, if he doesn't want to. As far as his parents know, he's blissfully unemployed. They don't care what he does. As long as he's happy, they'll just keep on sending the cheques.

“I like him,” Misha says and that surprises Jensen, a little. Not that Misha likes Jared, because that wouldn't be hard, but that sounded a little like permission. Not that Jensen was asking for it.

“Whatever,” Jensen says, sitting up straighter again and putting his feet back on the floor. “Like I said, it was just some fun.”

Misha doesn't look like he quite believes him so Jensen changes the subject. He grabs the second game controller from the coffee table and hits the start button.

“Care to save yourself the embarrassment and just blow me now?” Misha asks, blinking innocently.

“You wish, asshole,” Jensen shoots back and elbows Misha in the side. “I can already feel your lips around my cock, man.”

Misha pauses for a moment to look at Jensen, really look at him and Jensen can’t help the shiver that runs through him. Dude is intense, that's for sure. “I never lose unless I want to,” Misha tells him and Jensen swallows as the game commences. 

No, Misha never does. And he loses a lot. It may sound like a weird standing bet for a couple of hooker pals – sexual favours – but it’s an excuse for both of them, a way to play down the fact that they both sometimes like a little more than what they get from strangers. They like their jobs, they do, but that kind of work doesn’t make their love lives very easy. Plus, they're both a little needy and Misha is a hard guy to quit.

Jensen's been trying.

Misha loses again half an hour later and about thirty seconds after that he’s on the floor on his knees in front of Jensen, sucking Jensen’s dick down his throat. 

It’s a pretty good start to the day, Jensen thinks, as he makes a note to tuck a few Viagra into his pocket.

***

Jared opens up the plastic case and runs the hand scanner over the barcode in the centre, between the two reels of tape. His computer beeps, _MALLRATS_ pops up on the screen beside the customer's name and phone number in bright orange letters against the grey-black background. _CHECKOUT: 06/06/1998 DUE: 06/07/1998_.

“Due back tomorrow at 5,” he tells the customer, snapping the case shut and handing the tape over the counter. 

The man (Rob is his name and he's twenty-six, kind of cute in that socially inept, 'I live in my parents' basement and don't own a comb' way) smiles and gives Jared an awkward sort of salute. 

“See you then,” he agrees, turning. He nearly trips on the door jam on his way out of the store and Jared snorts, shakes his head and goes over to grab a bag of popcorn from the machine in the corner, set up there so the customers can snack as they browse. 

It's a pretty big video store, _Trendz_. They've got thousands of movies, rows and rows of every different genre and style but for some reason Jared is unaware of, Rob Benedict insists on watching the same damn movie every Friday night.

He's been doing it since Jared started working here, six months ago and Chad says it's been a lot longer than that. Jared likes Chad. He's two years younger than Jared, still in high school but he's a decent guy, funny and he makes work more bearable. He's probably Jared's best friend, these days. He hasn't a chance to make very many of them since he moved out of his old bedroom.

He still keeps in touch with his high school friends a little, mostly through email when he get to a library to use a computer but he doesn't talk to them much and he hasn't seen them since graduation.

“I don't know why he doesn't just buy the damn movie,” Chad says, snatching a handful of Jared's popcorn when he gets back behind the front counter. It's late, past eleven thirty and there's nobody else in the store. “It'd be way cheaper and he wouldn't have to bother coming in here every week.”

Jared shrugs and tosses a kernel into the air, catches it in his mouth easily and smiles a goofy, proud smile back at Chad.

“I think he likes coming here. Gives him something to do. I get the impression he doesn't have a lot of friends.”

“Yeah, he seems... I don't know. Bookish. Like maybe he sits around in his bathroom all day writing the next great novel, or whatever.”

“Hmm,” Jared agrees. “Or maybe he's some kind of computer genius, holed up his basement with these big huge machines all along the walls, all lights and buttons and beeps and shit. Maybe he's an _evil_ computer genius.”

Jared tosses another kernel in the air and catches that one as well.

“Or,” Chad says after a beat, “maybe he's a serial killer. Maybe he strikes on Friday nights and we're his alibi.”

“Maybe he's Batman.”

They're both silent for a second before they burst out laughing.

“Whatever. He's weird, but I kinda like him.”

“Yeah,” Chad says. Jared notices him watching as he grabs the broom out of the back room and Chad raises an eyebrow when Jared starts to sweep up the floor, without even being asked. Jared's a good worker, does what he's supposed to when he's supposed to. He's always polite to the customers, smiles and says 'have a nice day' and he even cleans the bathrooms without complaint when it's his turn on the schedule. 

But the store is huge and people are slobs and the racks are a bitch to reach under and Jared _hates_ sweeping. He always tries to trade with someone else, pleads and whines and uses the puppy eyes, because as far as Jared's concerned, it's the worst part of the job.

Not today, though. Today it doesn't seem like such a chore. Today Jared's been smiling through his duties since he walked through the door and one look at his best friend tells Jared that Chad's definitely noticed.

“Yeah, you kind of like everything, today. What the hell's gotten into you?”

Jared snickers a little at Chad's wording – he knows _exactly_ what's 'gotten into him' and he'd like to get it into him again, as soon as possible.

“Oh my god,” Chad says, after a beat. “You got laid!”

Jared's smile grows as he sweeps behind the ficus in the corner. He doesn't confirm Chad's guess, but he doesn't have to.

“You totally got laid. Was it that hooker you've had a boner for since you started here?”

Jared flushes a little and gives a small nod. “Yeah. God, Chad it was _amazing_.”

“Was it? And what's the going rate for _amazing_ these days?” It's teasing, not mean but Jared flinches a little anyway at the reminder that what he shared with Jensen was nothing more than a business transaction. Okay, so maybe it was a _little_ more. “I'm surprised you could afford it.”

“It wasn't... I mean, yeah, I paid him, but... I don't think he did it for the money.”

Chad looks at him then, tilts his head and his eyes go soft and pitying and he sighs.

“Aw, Jared. No, man. Be careful. Don't let yourself think it was more than it was. And don't let yourself fall for him.”

“You don't... It's not like that. I'm not... I'm not _falling_ for him.” Which is true enough, really. Jared already fell, a long time ago. Chad obviously isn't buying it, though.

“I'm serious. He's not gonna fall in love with you and then quit working the streets so you can support him on your minimum wage plus all the free movie rentals and popcorn you want. This isn't a fairy tale.”

“I know that,” Jared snaps. He _does_ know that. Except, he can't deny that somewhere in the back of his mind he thinks that's exactly what's going to happen. Maybe he'll get Jensen a job at the video store, too. That, plus he knows Jensen also works part time at Trader Joe's, he saw him there once and surely if they moved in together and pooled all their money they could afford some place a little nicer than Jared's apartment and... Chad's still looking at him like Jared's a special breed of pathetic moron.

Now his good mood is just about shot to hell. And he's stuck sweeping, which sucks now more than it ever has. 

“I know that. I just mean... I gave the guy eighty-three bucks. _Eighty-three bucks_ , that's it. And he spent the whole night with me. I know he's not gonna run away with me or anything, but... but that's gotta mean _something_ , right?”

“I guess, yeah, maybe,” Chad concedes. Then his tone changes and his smile grows brighter again. “So. How big's his dick?”

***

Jared lives two blocks from the video store in a one bedroom apartment on the third floor of a highrise building. He lives two blocks west but when his shift is over that night he heads east, toward the convenience store, to the corner Jensen where works. 

Jensen isn't there. Neither is Misha. Two of the girls are there, though. The brunette and the readhead, but he doesn't see the blonde around anywhere, either. Jared hopes she's at home, getting some rest. Too many late nights probably aren't good for the baby. Then again, neither are all the cigarettes she smokes, so.

Jared offers the two girls an awkward sort of smile and he goes into the store to say hi to AJ and pick up a free carton of expired milk for his coffee and cereal in the morning.

The next day he has to cut dinner at his sister's house short because he gets called in to work an evening shift at _Star_. He spends the entire night looking out the window, but Jensen doesn't show up at all. The blonde is there tonight, another guy – Jared's only seen him a couple of times, shorter than Jensen with dark hair, like Misha, skinny, but it looks good on him. The blonde leaves with a guy in purple Pinto and doesn't come back. The guy disappears around the corner with a man in a baseball cap for half an hour, then again a while later with a guy who looks like he's about ninety.

By the time Jared's shift is over nobody is left on the corner and Jared fights the sinking feeling in his gut and the fleeting thought that maybe he'd imagined Jensen completely.

***

The third day though, he has the evening off. He worked the afternoon shift at _Trendz_ and he doesn't have a shift at _Star_ for another few days, but he stops by there anyway late in the evening, hoping to see Jensen.

He's disappointed at first; Jensen's not on the corner. Nobody is. Jared frowns and slows down, stops a few doors down from the store and he's about to turn around and go home when something catches the corner of his eye.

It's Jensen, Jared can see him through the window of a donut shop, head thrown back and laughing. He's sitting at a table across from Misha, with a cup of coffee in front of him. Jared stop and stares, smiles at Jensen's smile and he doesn't realise he's kind of zoned out for a minute there, watching the long line of Jensen's neck and the way it pulses when he swallows until there's a knocking on the glass in front of him. He starts and blinks and Jensen is frowning at him, waving at him slowly, like he's checking to see if Jared's gone blind or if he's sleepwalking or suffered some kind of brain damage.

Jared tries to smile at him, but it comes out more like a wince. Misha laughs and Jensen motions for Jared to join them inside, so Jared does.

“Hey, Jared,” Jensen greets him, when Jared walks up to their table. He stands for a moment, awkwardly wringing his hands. He's nervous. He doesn't know why. He's had sex with this guy. Really long, really wild, really _great_ fucking sex with this guy. He's been looking for him, hoping to see him for the past two days and now that he's sitting right there, right in front of him, Jared doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know what to say or how to say it or how to even start.

“Sit,” Jensen says, making at least that decision easy for him.

He sits in the seat next to Jensen and Jensen nudges the box of donuts on the table a little closer to him.

“Donut?”

“Thanks,” Jared says, snagging a raised chocolate. They're his favourite. Not that he's really ever met a donut he doesn't like, but raised chocolate are his favourite. “So how uh... how are you? I haven't seen you around.”

Misha snickers and Jensen shoots him a look before turning back to Jared.

“I'm good,” he answers, giving Jared a warm smile. “Just kickin' Misha's ass in a little Hangman.”

He nods toward the table and it's then that Jared notices a pen and a small pad of paper, little stick man hanging from a gallows with the phrase “I AM SPARTACUS” scribbled on the top page.

“That's a blatant lie,” Misha counters. “You clearly cheated.”

“By being smarter than you?”

“You kept licking your lips. You hypnotized me with your wiles. I couldn't think straight.”

“Good one,” Jensen says, rolling his eyes. “Best to just face it – I'm better than you. At so... many... things.”

“Hmm,” Misha answers, clearly not convinced and Jared doesn't like that, doesn't like the way they're so easy, so _familiar_ with each other when Misha's noticing things like the way Jensen's lips look, because that's Jared's job, _Jared_ wants to notice those lips and Misha can just keep his grubby mitts off his man, damnit!

Wow, okay. That was a little bit insane, Jared realises that.

“Can I play?” Jared asks. Jensen chuckles a little, but reaches for the pen and paper and starts to draw out some spaces for letters to go in.

“Shoot,” he says.

After Jared's lost three rounds in a row he has to conclude that Misha was right; Jensen does cheat. Except it's not the way that Jensen's licking his lips that has Jared distracted, it's the way his fingers keep sliding up and down the length of the pen, how his nails dig softly into the squishy gel at the grip and how the tips slowly drag over the shaft.

Jared swallows and stutters and looks back to his nearly blank page, where Jensen is cheerily illustrating the hanged man's left hand. The game is over and Jared hadn't even realised.

“Told you,” Misha says. Jared blushes and Jensen smiles, laughs but if Jared's not entirely mistaken, there's a small flush creeping over his cheeks as well. Jensen puts the pen back down on top of the pad and takes another sip from his coffee and the way his lashes flutter when he looks down makes Jared's chest tickle. 

Misha clears his throat and they both look up. “I think I'll head out.”

“Hang on,” Jensen tells him, patting his pockets, presumably to make sure he's got his wallet and keys. “I'll come with.”

“No need,” Misha says. “I'll catch up with you later.”

Jensen just shrugs, but he stands up anyway and Jared starts to panic, wants to tell Jensen _no, stay, please_ because he hasn't even gotten a chance to really talk to him yet, to ask if and when and how often he can see him again. But Jensen doesn't leave.

“Yeah, okay. Later,” he says, then grabs his empty coffee mug when Misha walks away. “I need another though. You want?”

“Uh... sure, okay. Thanks.”

A minute later Jensen's back, with two mugs of coffee and a handful of sugar and creamer packets. Jensen drinks his coffee black, but Jared happily takes one cream and three sugars. Late at night, he likes it a little sweeter.

“Thanks,” he says again.

“No worries. Not working tonight?”

Jared shakes his head. “Afternoon today. What about you? I mean, are you working tonight?” Then it strikes him what that might sound like and his eyes go wide before he continues. “I didn't mean... I mean I'm not looking for... you know. _That_. I was just...” he breaks off lamely and waves his  
hand around. “Making conversation.”

Jensen laughs again, that same infectious laugh that makes Jared's insides turn to jelly and he smiles, even if he feels like a bit of an idiot.

“I was,” Jensen tells him. “Figure I'm done for the night, though.”

“Cool,” Jared says, nodding. Then, “Listen do you, you know... date? At all?”

He sounds like a little kid asking for a pony, voice all full of nervous hope and guarded against the strong possibility of rejection. But while that possibility is strong, it isn't absolute, so Jared feels like he has to try.

Jensen lets out a soft sigh and he briefly closes his eyes. When he opens them again Jared's heart sinks.

“No,” Jensen says.

Jared nods, taking his lower lip between his teeth. He'd expected as much.

“I figured,” Jared says. He wonders if Jensen has a boss, if there are rules he needs to follow. He knows very little about prostitution besides what he's seen in _Pretty Woman_. “But why? Are you... not allowed to, or...?”

Jensen lets out a short burst of laughter, shaking his head.

“It's not like that. This isn't a sad movie. I don't have a pimp shaking me down at the end of the night for fifty percent or anything. This is... free enterprise. I can do whatever I want, but dating... Jared, it's not a good idea. It gets complicated.”

“That sounds like the voice of experience,” Jared points out, but Jensen doesn't answer.

“It's just a bad idea.”

No means no, Jared understands that. The last thing he wants to do is push, he doesn't want to pressure anybody into something they don't want to do, but _damn_ , look at Jensen, sitting there all handsome and warm with those beautiful, beautiful eyes. Jared wants him. He wants to be with him any way he can, pay for now, if he has to and take advantage of any and all freebies Jensen's willing to throw his way and then maybe, somewhere down the road, Jensen will realise how perfect they are for each other and he'll fall in love with Jared and...

Shit, Chad was right. He needs to be careful.

“Fair enough,” he says. “But can I...” He pauses and picks up one of the empty sugar packets, crinkles the paper between his fingers. “If I have money, can we? You know...”

“Fuck?” Jensen offers, cracking a small smile.

Jared screws up his face.

“I was gonna say 'be together', but yeah, okay, maybe there'd be fucking. I don't have a lot of money, you know that, but if I do... if I save up again, or...”

“Jared...” Jensen starts, letting out a slow breath. It's not a yes. It's not a _no_ , though so Jared keeps trying.

“I know, okay?” he says. “I know the money I gave you wasn’t enough. I don’t even know why you let me get away with it. But I know. So, tell me. How much do I need next time? I’ll get it. It might take a while, but I’ll get it.”

“Jared, don’t. You’ve got better things to spend your money on.” 

“I get to choose how I spend my money, Jensen,” Jared tells him, and he says it with such a soft smile that Jensen smiles back.

“Fine,” Jensen answers. “You want to save up, waste your grocery money on a quick hand job in the alley, I'm not going to stop you.”

His words sting a little, but he's still smiling softly at Jared, trying to make it a joke so Jared jokes back. 

“Just a hand job?”

“I'd be out of business in no time if I kept charging you the rates I did the other night. Hand job is all you can really afford.”

Yeah, probably not even that, Jared thinks. But he'll take it.

“Well...” Jensen adds, after some mock consideration. “Maybe a blow job.”

Jared's smile grows with the wink Jensen shoots his way and he wraps his fingers around his coffee mug to keep from reaching across the table to take Jensen's hand.

“Deal. I don't have any money right now, but when I do...”

“Come find me whenever you like, Jared. We’ll work it out. But if you’re interested, you don’t need money to be my friend.”

Jared nods and brings his mug up to lips, tips it back and finishes off his drink. He supposes he could take Jensen up on that offer. It would definitely get him closer to Jensen, give him the chance to spend more time with him, like this, drinking coffee and playing Hangman, maybe going out to see a movie or grabbing some pizza. 

It might be nice. It _would_ be nice. But it's also dangerous, puts him in the 'friend' zone and when he's there it's a lot harder to transition to what he really wants from Jensen. He gets that Jensen isn't really in a position to give more than that at the moment, but Jared's not really in a position to give less. 

If he was Jensen's friend, all he'd be thinking about was the possibility of being Jensen's lawfully wedded husband and he doesn't want to start their (hopefully future long-term) relationship off on a lie.

He wants to be Jensen's boyfriend in the short term, stupid as that probably sounds. He's pretty sure he's in love with Jensen already, and he wants to be his boyfriend.

He hears what Jensen is saying to him, understands that he's guarded, jaded and there's probably a reason for that but in the end, Jared doesn't really care. He's in love. He's young and he's stupid and love right now is selfish and greedy but that doesn't change the fact that he really _is_ in love with Jensen. He wants more than friendship, wants more than to sit next to him and pretend that he's okay with casual glances and sharing a box of donuts when Jared knows he'll do nothing but want _more_.

Jensen deserves the truth, deserves to know that Jared will accept nothing short of eventual commitment.

Sex is a big part of that. It fosters intimacy, deeper emotions. Jared's always had a hard time separating the two. He knows that Jensen probably doesn't have the same hang-ups, what with the whole sleeping with people for a living thing, but he already knows Jensen likes him so he's hoping to change his mind. Where Jared's concerned, at least.

“I don’t want to be your friend, Jensen,” he says, when he puts the cup back down. “I want to be so much more than that.” 

***

Jensen's honestly surprised Jared holds out for as long as he does.

A full month goes by before Jared approaches him for anything other than polite small talk. They've passed by each other on the street, smiled and waved and Jared sometimes stops to chat on his way to work or when he's on break, but never for very long. Jared usually has somewhere to be and when he doesn't, Jensen does.

Jensen's not disappointed exactly, except... yeah, okay, he's a little disappointed. He knows what he told Jared, about dating not being a good idea and he'd meant it. It's a really very spectacularly bad idea. He'd also meant what he'd said about being friends, though. He likes Jared, he wouldn't mind spending a little more time with Jared but he can't get serious right now.

And that kid has 'committed, long-term relationship' written all over him.

He can ignore that tiny spark of excitement, that low burn of possibility when Jared stops to ask if he's tried the new hot dog vendor a few streets over or tell Jensen about some cheesy old movie he watched at work. He can ignore the sting of defeat when Jared walks away again, without propositioning him.

The more time he spends with Jared, the more he likes him. There's a spark there, undeniable and it was lit months ago. It keeps getting bigger every time they talk, every time Jared smiles and blushes and tells him a story about high school basketball or summers spent camping with his family or a the drunk guy who always pisses out the window of the number 41 bus.

Jensen's not short on friends, he doesn't really need another but he finds himself looking forward to those stray few minutes with Jared every other day. Finds himself hoping each time that it'll turn into more than that.

So yeah, Jensen's maybe a little disappointed but it's probably for the best. He wasn't lying when he said that Jared has better things to spend his money on. Better things than Jensen, and better things than sex. He knows where Jared lives. He’s seen the kid go into his building a few times, and he’s noticed that Jared only seems to have one pair of jeans. Not that Jensen’s been paying attention to that sort of thing.

And Jensen would accuse Jared of playing it a little too cool, except for the fact that Jared watches, the same as he's always watched. He watches Jensen walk away with people, he watches him get in and out of cars, watches him smoke and laugh and pass a flask back and forth with Misha and Matt and sometimes the girls.

He can feel Jared's eyes on him every time, same as before. He likes it, he does but it's not really enough.

Wednesdays are what really get him through, though.

Every Wednesday, same as before, Jared takes his break at ten-thirty and peeks through the back window of the convenience store, to the alley behind.

Jared watches Jensen stand and wait and Jensen watches him right back. Jared watches as Jake shows up, watches the kid smile and toe at the ground and they both watch Jake sink to his knees and swallow Jensen down. Jensen watches Jared's eyes grow hooded as Jensen's hips snap forward, watches Jared lick his lips when Jensen's hands grab Jake's head to hold it still as he fucks into it slow and easy, the way he knows Jake loves.

Jared watches Jensen watch him right back and when Jensen comes down Jake's throat, it's Jared's name on his lips, even if no sound comes out. 

Jared watches that, too.

It's been five weeks since they slept together, since Jensen gave into the crazy impulse to let his heart make the decisions and he spent the night with someone he was genuinely attracted to. Since he took Jared home, for fun masquerading as work. It's five weeks until Jared comes to him again, looking just as nervous and unsure as the first time, even though he already knows the answer.

It's a Friday. He knows Jared works until midnight at the video store on Fridays (and no, he's not stalking Jared, it just came up in conversation is all) and since it's the third Friday of the month Jensen's planning on calling it an early night. The third Friday of the month is usually when he has his monthly date with city councilman Mark Sheppard. Or more accurately, councilman Sheppard's wife.

He gets picked up about nine, like usual. And like usual, he's dropped back off on the corner by eleven and after that pay day he really doesn't need to stick around for any possible foot traffic. It's usually pretty dead after midnight or so anyway.

He waits and watches for Sheppard's limo to pull around the corner and out of sight before he kisses Genevieve on the cheek and tells her to keep an eye on Katie. Katie tells him to fuck off, she can take care of herself and she ambles her seven month pregnant body up off the front stoop of a real estate agent's office. She punches him in the arm. It hurts and he winces and then kisses her as well before he starts toward the twenty-four hour grocery store a block and a half down.

There are usually several taxis in the parking lot and Jensen doesn't feel like waiting around the apartment to call for one.

He doesn't quite make it there though, when he runs into Jared. Well, more like Jared runs into him. Literally runs, right into him.

“Shit, sorry!” he says. “Jensen, hi. I mean... I was just coming to... I got off work early. Somebody shot through the window, so the cops came by and shut the place down for the night. It was crazy, man. Anyway. I thought I'd try to catch you, before you went home. Uh... are you? Going home?”

Jared looks to Jensen and then in the direction of the apartment Jensen had taken him to, the opposite direction to which he's walking. Jensen's not ready to have that conversation yet so he doesn't answer at all.

“Why?” he asks, with an overly seductive smirk. “Lookin' for a date, hot stuff?”

Jared frowns. “Don't...” He stops and lets out a breath, then the lines around his eyes smooth out. “I guess I am, yeah. Do you want to... go to your place, or... or we could go to mine? I mean, if you're not busy. If you're not... off duty, or whatever.”

Jensen's smile turns from come-hither to honest in a heartbeat. Fuck, Jared's earnestness is contagious and Jensen still thinks this whole thing is an epically fucking stupid idea, but Jesus Christ, Jared's _face_. He's so damn beautiful it's really not fair.

If Jensen was a romantic man, he’d have said that he’d fallen hopelessly for Jared that first day they talked, when Jared commented on the weather. He’s not, thank God, so he’s just going to blame his poor decision making on the fact that Jared is gorgeous and goofy and makes him feel like a person instead of a cock-for-hire.

“Let's go to my place,” Jensen says.

“I don't have much,” Jared tells him.

Jensen steps closer, reaches out and takes Jared's chin between his thumb and finger. He tilts Jared's face down a little and leans up to kiss him, a soft, brief peck and then he pulls back, grinning.

“Let's go to my place.”

When they get there, after Jensen shuts and locks the door behind them, he backs Jared up against it, leans in close. His face hovers over Jared's for a moment and Jensen pauses to enjoy the way Jared's heart is hammering in his chest, beating against Jensen's, the way Jared breathes in rapid and shallow and the way he licks his lips, nervous anticipation.

Jared likes it when Jensen takes control, he learned that last time. Probably because he wants every opportunity he can get to pretend that he's not paying Jensen for it. If Jensen's the pursuer, if he's the one coming after Jared and taking what he wants, then Jared can pretend this is something else, something it's not.

And Jensen is very good at his job, but he's not that good. When he cups the side of Jared's face in his hand, when he leans in and takes Jared's bottom lip between his teeth, when he pulls back with a soft chuckle and rubs his nose back and forth across Jared's before he breaks it off and steps away, laughing – he means it.

Jared groans at the loss, at the tease, whimpering a little as he leans forward to chase after Jensen, but he's laughing, too so Jensen doesn't feel too bad about it.

“What do you want?” Jensen asks him, reminding them both that this is business. Supposed to be business.

“Uh. What can I get for...” He reaches into his pocket and comes out with a measly fist full of crumpled up bills and some loose change. “Forty-six fifty?”

Jensen laughs. He gives in to the urge to kiss the embarrassed look right off Jared's face and he laughs. He takes the money Jared offers him and tosses it down on the kitchen table.

“A back rub,” he tells Jared. Honestly, any clients that get back rubs out of Jensen are usually paying him a whole lot of money. Jared doesn't need to know that, though.

“I'll take it,” Jared says, immediately. “That sounds pretty amazing, actually.”

Now that Jensen's really listening for it, Jared does sound a little tired, a little worn down. The poor kid works sixty hours a week and he's on his feet for all of them.

Whereas Jensen works about fifteen hours a week and he spends most of them in bed.

“Come on,” Jensen says, gesturing toward the bed. “Strip. Lie down.”

Jared does, while Jensen grabs some of the body oil from the cabinet in the kitchen. When he crosses the room again to the bed, Jared's naked and half-lying awkwardly on his side, looking up at Jensen expectantly.

Jensen smiles and bends down, kisses Jared once and then puts a hand on his shoulder, gently turning him so he's face down.

He straddles Jared and pours some oil onto his hands, rubs them together to warm it up and then starts to work on Jared's shoulders. Jared lets out a long, drawn out moan and he slumps, like any lingering apprehension leaves his body all at once.

“Fuuuuck yeah,” he says, almost a low whisper and Jensen rubs him harder, longer strokes of his thumb up under and around his shoulder blades and across the outsides of his ribs. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Jensen can't help but lean down to kiss the soft skin along Jared's spine as he works his way down, over the tense muscles of his lower back and further. He works the stiffness out of Jared's entire back and over his ass and then starts down his legs. By the time he gets to Jared's feet nearly an hour later, Jared's a whimpering, floppy mess.

Jensen works his way back up Jared's body, quicker this time and he hovers overs over Jared's body with his weight braced on his arms so he can whisper into Jared's ear, “How's that?”

“Mmmm,” is Jared's answer and Jensen takes it as a compliment. 

“Anything else I can do for you?” Jensen's voice is pitched low, a soft, seductive grumble that tickles the back of Jared's neck.

The tenor of Jared's groan changes then, less lazy satisfaction, more desire. His hips buck forward into the mattress and Jensen smiles and kisses behind Jared's ear.

“Last call. Anything else, Jared?”

“Mmmm. Really?” Jared sounds surprised. Or, as surprised as he's capable of, when he's boneless and relaxed like this.

“Really,” Jensen smiles. “But you gotta tell me what you want. This is your dime, remember. And I can't read your mind.”

Jared's hips buck forward again and Jensen eases off of him, sits on the edge of the bed with his hand resting on Jared's hip. He'd like to have sex with Jared. He honestly would like to but he's not going to start anything he's not absolutely sure Jared wants. Like he said, it's Jared's dime, he gets to make the calls.

Jared rolls slightly, almost to his side but then he gives up, flops back down onto this front. He lifts one leg though, bends it at the knee to spread himself open as far as he can manage.

“Like this,” he says, gasping when he rolls his hips once more, his cock pushing against Jensen's blanket. It's smooth, silky, feels good against your skin and Jared's cock is probably hard by now, but he can't see. He lets his hand drag over Jared's ass between his legs, slides his palm over Jared's heavy balls and lets his fingers wander forward, up along the base of Jared's indeed very hard shaft.

“You want me to fuck you?” Jensen needs Jared to be clear on this.

“Mmhmm,” Jared says, mostly into the pillow. “Like this. I don't think I can move, so you're gonna have to do all the work.”

Jensen lets out a low chuckle and grabs a condom from the table.

“Just relax,” he tells Jared. “I think I can handle that.”

He rolls the condom down over his cock, spreads some of the body oil onto his fingers and works them into Jared's hole, stretches him as slow and easy as he'd worked over Jared's entire body and when he finally slides inside Jensen's so revved up that he has to recite baseball box scores in his head to keep from coming right away.

It's been a damn long time since he's had that particular problem at work.

Jensen still doesn't last very long, but neither does Jared, so he doesn't feel too bad about it. Jensen finds Jared's prostate and keeps on nailing it, hoping to take him as close to the edge as Jensen is. It works a little too well. Jared's orgasm seems to take them both by surprise. He comes, gasping and screaming and all over Jensen's bed, without Jensen ever once touching his cock and Jensen follows shortly after.

Jensen takes a few deep breaths and eases out slowly, manages to successfully roll a completely fucked out Jared onto his back, so he can look him over.

He's sweaty and exhausted and his dick is still hard and wet from his orgasm. He blinks his eyes open and looks up at Jensen, gives him a lazy, sated smile.

It's the most beautiful thing Jensen's ever seen in his life.

Fuck, he's in trouble.

***

Two weeks later he's standing on the corner with Matt and Julie, in the middle of a rousing game of twenty questions when Jared walks right up to him and smiles. It's Thursday, which means there's a good chance Lauren is going to come looking for him. She has her weekly meetings with her witch of a boss on Thursdays and by the end of the day she's usually wound pretty tight. Jensen's very, very good at taking care of that.

Lauren's a little twisted, in some of the ways that Jensen likes, but she doesn't pay as well as some of his customers and he'd much rather spend some time with Jared anyway, if he's got the option.

“Lonely tonight, sweetie?” Julie asks, stepping out from under Jensen's arm and reaching out to touch the side of Jared's face.

Julie kind of creeps Jensen out sometimes, if he's being honest. She's a great girl, but she doesn't play this the way most hookers do. The things she says are crude, but the way she says them is anything but. She's looking up at Jared, thumb stroking over his cheekbone like she's sorry for him, like she's honestly sorry that Jared might be feeling lonely and she'd like to help him out with that.

She'd make a better shrink than a hooker, really. If only she could afford college.

Hell, her and Misha should start their own business. They could go legit easy.

Jared seems caught up in her spell at first – they all do, once Julie gets her hands on them – but he shakes it off after only a few seconds and smiles at her, apologetically.

Fuck, Jared feels guilty for turning down a hooker. Has Jensen mentioned how fucking _adorable_ he is lately?

“No, I... Well, yeah. But...” He blushes (Jensen will never get tired of that, not ever) and looks over at Jensen. “Could we... do you think...?”

“How much you got?” Jensen asks, smirking slightly as he leans forward and snakes a finger into Jared's pocket.

Jared's blush deepens and he glances at Matt and Julie before he looks back to Jensen, uncertain.

“Right,” Jensen says. “Let's talk details.”

He throws an arm over Jared's shoulders and leads him away, hears Matt say something about 'new boyfriend' to Julie and he frowns at that, but shakes it off.

Jared tells him he has twenty seven dollars and Jensen fucks him in the bathroom of Jared's convenience store.

He's back on the corner in time to meet Lauren, half an hour later.

***

A week later Jared hands Jensen eleven bucks and Jensen blows him in the alley out back. 

***

A week after that Jared presses nineteen dollars into Jensen's fist and asks Jensen to take him home.

It's kind of forward, Jared knows that. He's not sure how Jensen's going to react, given the past two times they were together it seemed like Jensen was trying to put a little bit of distance between them, but Jared knows what he wants and he knows the only way to get it is to ask for it.

Jensen looks uncertain at first, just for a second but then he nods and smiles and stuffs the money into his pocket.

“We won't be long,” he says, turning to look at Misha, who's standing next to him. Misha looks at Jensen with a smile, his eyes are laughing and Jared really, unreasonably doesn't like him.

“No, of course not,” Misha agrees. “It's nice to see you, Jared.”

Jared blinks and frowns and he opens his mouth to answer, but Jensen must be paying attention because he turns Jared before he can, takes his hand and kisses it and leads Jared away.

When they get back to Jensen's apartment, Jared's in a bad mood. 

He doesn't know why, not really. Sure, Misha always seems like he's a little too interested in Jensen, but Jensen is a _hooker_ , a _lot_ of people are too interested in Jensen for Jared's comfort.

Jared knows all this, Jared's really pretty fine with all this, usually. Today though, it's bothering him, gnawing at him and turning his mood dark.

“I don't want to fuck,” Jared says, as Jensen locks the door.

Jensen turns on him slowly, brow raised.

“Nobody said you had to,” Jensen tells him. “But you're the one who shoved your spare change in my pocket.”

“It's not my...” Jared starts, even angrier now that Jensen's not just falling down at his feet and telling Jared how much he loves him. He knows that's a fucked up fantasy, he _knows_ that but there's a part of him that wanted Jensen to turn around and punch Misha in the face, for... making fun of Jared, or whatever that was. “It's not _spare_. I don't have spare change. I have money that I'm not going to spend on groceries and long distance to my folks.”

Jared watches Jensen's face pinch and immediately feels guilty. It's not Jensen's fault that Jared's throwing every spare cent Jensen's way. He'd like it to be, but it's not.

Jensen steps closer to Jared, cups his hand over Jared's ribs and Jared flinches and steps back.

“I'm sorry,” Jensen says. “I didn't...”

“Look, just forget it. I don't want to fuck, I don't... Maybe I should go.” He doesn't want to go. He doesn't want to give up on Jensen and he hates himself for acting the way he is. Like a jealous boyfriend.

“You can do that, if you want. I won't stop you. I'll even give you your money back. But I'd like it if you'd stay.”

“Would you?” Jared challenges. “Would you really like that, or are you just hoping to get paid?”

God, what is _wrong_ with him? He knows he's being stupid, being an _asshole_ , but he's on edge and he can't shake it.

“I'm going to pretend you didn't say that,” Jensen says, taking Jared's hand and pulling him forward when Jared lets him. “Because I _know_ you know how ridiculous that is. But it's up to you. We're already here, but it's up to you.”

Jared feels like a scolded school boy, knowing he's in the wrong but desperately clinging to his temper tantrum ideals.

“Do you have anything to drink?” he asks.

“Water,” Jensen says. Then he taps the side of the fridge. “Milk. Beer. Guava juice.”

That gets a smile out of Jared.

“Really?”

“No,” Jensen admits. “No, not really. But milk or beer, if you want.”

Jared doesn't even need to think about it.

“Beer,” he says. Then, “Please.”

Jensen opens the fridge, grabs two bottles and opens then both, passes one to Jared and takes a swig from the other.

Jared's twitchy, uncomfortable and he wants to leave but he doesn't want to. If he was in charge of his emotions, his desires, he'd walk right out the door and never think about a hooker named Jensen ever again. He can't do that, though. He's stuck on Jensen, can't shake loose. And if Jensen would just acknowledge that, would just admit that he knows how Jared feels, tell Jared he maybe feels a little of it back, Jared would be fine.

He wouldn't be jealous anymore, would let go of his irrational dislike toward Misha, because he'd _know_ then. He'd know Jensen cared for him, that Jensen wanted to be with him. He'd be different than all those other guys.

Jared's finished half the bottle when Jensen takes it from him, places it on the table next to his own full one.

“So what do you want to do, then? You want to talk?”

“Not really,” Jared snaps.

Jensen nods like he understands.

“You want to join me on the bed? I think I need to sit for a while.”

Jensen doesn't wait for Jared's answer, just sprawls out on the bed with his back propped up against the headboard. He cocks his head in invitation and Jared crawls in beside him, tucks himself up under Jensen's arm.

“I like you,” Jared says, whispers the words into Jensen's chest. “I know what this is, I know what it _isn't_ , but I like you.”

He holds his breath, waits for Jensen's answer.

“ _Logan's Run_ is my favourite movie,” Jensen tells him. It's not an answer, it's not what Jared was hoping to hear, but it's something. It's something personal and Jared smiles and buries his face into Jensen's chest.

“Okay,” Jared says. “Maybe I do want to fuck.”

Jensen kisses the top of his head and puts a hand on his chest.

“What do you want?”

Jared works his pants open, pulls the zipper down and places Jensen's hand on his cock. He's still not exactly in the mood, but touching Jensen always makes him feel better.

“This,” he says and he works his own hand down Jensen's pants, too. They pull, jerk and tug and slide until they're both gasping softly and making a mess. It's quiet, pleasant but underwhelming and then Jared falls asleep.

He wakes to Jensen nuzzling his neck and Jared moans, stretches into the touch and Jensen lets him shower before he kicks him out. Well, Jensen doesn't really kick him out, because Jensen goes with him, walks him all the way home at three in the morning and kisses him goodnight at the door to his building.

***

It’s hard. Harder than Jared thought it would be, watching Jensen work, watching him disappear with so many other men while Jared's saving up every last penny for a few stolen moments. It's harder than it should be when Jeff shows up – the man with the Cadillac and the paddle who's greeted with Jensen's smiling face. It's even harder still when Jensen doesn't go off with anybody at all, when he walks away from the corner with Misha, passing a cigarette back and forth, shoulders brushing.

Jared takes a deep breath, Jared always takes a deep breath and he reminds himself that this is Jensen's job. Jensen needs the money and this is all just his job. Jared is different, even if Jensen won't say so out loud.

***

It's Wednesday again. Jared watches, because it's Wednesday.

Jared watches and Jensen puts on a show, pets the kid’s head, nice and gentle until the kid gets impatient, hands on Jensen’s hips encouraging him to move faster and harder and Jensen does it. Of course he does. It’s his job, to give some seventeen year old closet case what he wants. And what he wants is to be down on his knees in a dirty alley, choking on cock.

At least, Jared assumes that's what he wants. Jared just assumes he's a seventeen year old closet case, too, but they look like pretty fair assumptions. The kid asks Jensen for the same thing every single week, something he can't get from the pretty little girls at school. He asks Jensen to fuck his face. That's it, only ever that.

So Jensen fucks his face. Usually slow, easy but this time it's hard and fast and his eyes never leave Jared’s and Jared’s hands never leave his pants. He usually comes like that, when Jensen does, and Jared can almost imagine that it’s him there in front of Jensen, swallowing down his orgasm or getting a face full of spunk, depending on Jensen’s mood.

It’s not though. Jared's never had the privilege. In all their time together, Jensen's never let Jared do that. It grates that this guy gets that, that he gets to pleasure Jensen that way, when Jared knows that most of the time, most of the time with _him_ even, it's Jensen doing the pleasuring.

And they kiss, when it's over.

They didn't used to. Six months ago, back when Jared first stumbled over this show the kid didn't even try. But soon after he started looking for it and soon after that Jensen started to allow it. Now, he turns his head into it, expects it and smiles when it's finished.

The kid leaves, Jensen adjusts his pants. He looks up to Jared to share their customary wink, but Jared surprises them both by coming out the back door of the store. It's half closed in by boxes on the inside, trash cans on the outside but he weaves through them and marches right up to Jensen.

“What's his name?” he asks, handing Jensen a ten dollar bill.

“You know I can't tell you that. Not for a ten spot,” Jensen says, smiling even though Jared's eyebrows are narrowed and he's leaning menacingly into Jensen's space. Jensen is full of shit, Jared is well aware of that. He does care about confidentiality, but he's let things slip to Jared before. So has Misha, for that matter. 

“I'm serious, Jensen,” Jared growls. He knows he's pushing it, knows he's asking for things he shouldn't ask for, but he can't help himself. He's jealous. Jealousy makes people do ugly things.

Jensen stills, then pushes Jared back with a hand on his chest and frowns while he tugs the wrinkles out of his shirt.

“So am I,” he says. “You can't just...” he breaks off and gestures between them and it's not like Jared can't fill in the blanks, but Jensen continues anyway. “You watching is bad enough. I shouldn't even let you do that, I should have picked a different place for this the first time I saw you looking. But Jared, you can't come crashing up to me like it's _any_ of your business, asking for personal details about my clients.”

“Clients,” Jared snorts. “You like him.”

“Again, not _any_ of your business,” Jensen grits out. “You want to have fun?” he asks, holding up the money Jared just gave him, “We'll have some fun. If not, you're kind of cramping my style. I don't know what your problem is lately, but you need to take a step back and get your head on straight about this. I like spending time with you, Jared, but I'm a hooker. And you're not my boyfriend.”

Jared tenses, puffs himself up ready for an argument but he looks at Jensen, poised to actually leave him there without another thought and the fight goes out of him.

He sighs and steps closer again, closes his eyes briefly.

“Sorry. You're right, sorry. I want... I want to blow you.”

“Like he did,” Jensen rolls his eyes and grabs Jared by the elbow, yanks him in so that he's pressed tight to Jensen's front. He kisses Jared, then.

It's slow and sweet, which is surprising, given the tense atmosphere. It's long, gentle at first and it grows in intensity, lots of tongue and teeth and wandering hands. Jensen has Jared pinned to the wall behind him and their chests are pressed together, Jensen's thigh shoved up between Jared's legs so he gets sweet, sweet pressure against his aching cock, but no friction. It's delicious, it's torture and it goes on for about half an hour, like they're high school kids making out in their parents' basement. By the time it's over Jared's so dizzy and awestruck that his entire body feels like jelly.

“Now go home,” Jensen says, stroking his thumb across Jared's cheek bone and Jared leans into it.

Jared can't really argue, because he's more than certain that make-out session used up his ten bucks and then some, but it went by way too fast, sent his head spinning and he needs more. This can't be all he gets of Jensen until he can save up a few more dollars. Fuck, Jared knows Jensen said he doesn't date, but he needs to try again, _ask_ again. The money Jared pays him is next to nothing, just for appearances, really. They're practically dating already, he'll argue.

“Go home,” Jensen says, again. “What we just did? That's more than anybody else has ever gotten.”

Jared sighs, but he nods in agreement. Now's not the right time for that discussion. Jensen doesn't owe him anything, not yet so he does what Jensen says. He goes home, determined to get his head on straight. 

***

It's another three weeks before Jared comes to him again. It's been strained when they've passed each other on the street, when Jared's stopped to say hello on the way to work or when Jensen's stopped into the store for a box of condoms.

Jensen's almost started to think that it was over between them, almost started to think that was for the best.

“Sorry,” Jared says, flagging Jensen down outside the video store. Jensen shouldn't be there. He has no reason to be there except that he's been hoping to catch a glimpse of Jared, watch his cheeks dimple and his hair fall over his eyes, even just through the window. “I was kind of strapped the past couple weeks.” He gives Jensen a twenty dollar bill, presses it against Jensen's palm, digs it in harder when he won't immediately take it. “And I was kind of a dick. You're right, whatever you do isn't my business. I'm sorry I crossed a line.”

Jensen steps back, he's quiet for a minute, considers the note in his hand before he slips it in his pocket. If Jared wants to forget all the weirdness and get back to normal, that's fine by Jensen. Jared says he's over it and while Jensen doesn't quite believe that, the last thing he wants to do is talk about it. He's more a man of action.

“Wanna head to my place?” he asks.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that,” Jared smiles. He follows behind as Jensen grabs his hand and walks them home.

“I want to ride you,” Jared says, once they're inside the apartment. It's an interesting change, this version of Jared that knows what he wants and asks for it, straight up. Jensen likes it, but he also likes the shy version, the one who'd taken months to work up the courage to talk to him.

But Jensen lets Jared have what he wants, he takes his pants off and he sits down on the ratty old sofa and he rolls on a condom and he lets Jared sit in his lap, lets him sink down on Jensen's cock and lets him get them both off.

It's bliss, pure and simple, just like every other time with Jared. Jensen fucks a _lot_. He fucks a lot of people and he fucks them often and he usually has a reasonably alright time. He wouldn't still be working this gig if he didn't. But with Jared it's... it's like sex used to be, before he became a prostitute.

It's warm and it's perfect when Jared leans down and kisses him, takes Jensen's lips against his own and Jensen never wants it to end. Here, like this, with Jared bouncing up and down on his cock is the only thing he ever wants to feel, ever again. It's stupid, _stupid_ to feel this way but he can't help it. He wants Jared, wants him for real, without any of this 'pretending it's business' bullshit. He's completely and utterly screwed. 

Jared cups his hand around the back of Jensen's neck, squeezes and rolls his hips and then he's whimpering, moaning, they both are. Jensen fills the condom and Jared comes all over Jensen's belly. He doesn't move after, doesn't leave Jensen's lap, just curls up against his chest with a loose fist resting over Jensen's heart.

Jensen can't lie to himself any more. He can't lie to himself and more importantly he can't lie to Jared. He deserves more than what Jensen's been letting him have. He can't give Jared everything he wants; that's impossible. He can give him one thing, though. Something Jensen's been thinking about since the first time Jared put money in his hand.

He moves his hands so they rest on Jared's hips, lifts him up and off and to the side. Jared makes an unhappy sound of protest, grabbing at Jensen as he stands, but Jensen smiles down at him.

“Be right back,” he says, walking across the room to where the bed is. He opens the bottom drawer on the bedside table, takes out the cash that's been piling up for the past few months. He hasn't spent any of it, not a penny. He doesn't need to; it's chump change to Jensen, but to Jared it means groceries and electricity and calling home to talk to his mother.

He sits back down next to Jared and presses the scattered bills into Jared's palm.

“What's this?” Jared asks, frowning.

“What does it look like?”

“It looks like...” Jared spreads the bills out, counts them in his head. _Two hundred, three hundred, forty-seven...._ “Looks like money.”

“Your money,” Jensen tells him. “All the money you ever paid me. Take it.”

“Jensen, I can't take this,” Jared protests. “I really, really can't take this. I'm not...” He hiccups a breath and clenches his teeth, squeezes his eyes shut and then opens them. “I'm not done with you. You can't... Please don't tell me this is over. I want you, still.”

“And you can have me,” Jensen tells him. “That's not what this is, I'm not...” _Breaking up with you_ sounds both epically stupid and inappropriate. “I'm not ending this. But please, take your money back.”

“No. You need it. It's way less than I should be giving you, but... you need it. Jensen, the only thing you have in your kitchen cupboard is a can of Pringles and a box of condoms. Go... buy a loaf of bread, or something!”

Jensen smiles at that. Jared's got a very distorted view of what Jensen's life actually looks like. Jared still thinks this is where Jensen lives. He should tell him. He _will_ tell him, but not right now. “I do alright,” he settles on. “Seriously, Jared. Take your money. We both know that's never what this was really about.”

Jared stares down at the cash for a moment and then a small smile breaks across his face as he grabs his pants off the floor and stuffs most of the money into one of the pockets.

“Here,” he says, handing some of it back.

“What...? No.”

“It's just some of it,” Jared says.

“I don't want any of it. It's _never_ been about the money.”

“Maybe not,” Jared tells him. “But please. I want you to keep this. It's eighty-three bucks. It's the first eighty-three bucks. If it wasn't for that, we'd never have started. So that's... yours.”

Jensen smiles and pulls Jared in, nips slightly at his lower lip.

“Does this mean we're dating?” he asks, teasingly, when Jensen lets him go.

Jensen scowls, but it's only for show.

“I don't date.”

“Right,” Jared says, still smiling. “Sweetie.”

“Don't,” Jensen warns, but Jared just keeps smiling at him.

“Sorry. Honey.”

“Jared...” He hates pet names, he really does, but Jared's smile is infectious, always has been.

“Okay, okay,” Jared relents. He takes Jensen's hand and stands, giving it a tug. “Let's go to bed.”

Jensen stands and kisses Jared. “Yes,” he answers. “God, I'm beat.” Emotional vulnerability never used to be so exhausting. “You want some water?”

Jared nods and lets go of Jensen's hand, so he can walk to the kitchen. 

“Thanks,” Jared says, when Jensen passes him a glass. “Pookie bear.”

Jensen rolls his eyes, but doesn't comment.

Yup. Entirely and completely fucked.

***

“No, mom,” Jared says into the receiver. “Yes, I... Yes, I know. I will. I am. I love you, too.”

He chuckles and puts the receiver back down. Jared loves his mom, he really does, but she's crazy overprotective. She actually cried when he left home six months ago, threw her arms around Jared's shoulders, even though she's the one that told him to go. She hugged him tight and wept like he was going off to war instead of just two towns over. Twenty-eight blocks from where his big sister and brother-in-law live.

She'd wanted him to stay home though, go to college and football games and get a job as a city planner or an architect. And he still might, but he'd needed a change, even for just a little while. He'd wanted some space, some adventure, an opportunity to find himself a little. Still, he's got family just down the road to fall back on and maybe when he gets tired enough of canned tuna and ramen, he'll throw in the towel, go back home. 

Maybe, he thinks but then he thinks of Jensen and thinks maybe not.

“Jared!” his sister Beth calls, from the other room. “You done yappin' to mom yet? Supper's ready.”

“Yeah, coming,” he answers.

Supper is meatloaf and mashed potatoes and green beans, not fancy but it's damn delicious. Jared eats everything on his plate, has seconds and takes some home with him, to heat up tomorrow. He swipes a bottle of vodka from her cupboard before he leaves and she lets him, even as she tuts and shakes her head, because he's only nineteen years old.

When he gets home that night he swings by the store to see if Jensen's on the corner. He's not and Jared's a little disappointed but he's not surprised. It's still relatively early so he calls Chad over and they drink the entire bottle of vodka and fall asleep on the floor.

It's possible Jared goes into a little too much detail at some point, about Jensen's fingers and his lips and the things he can do with them. It's also possible Chad punches him in the arm and runs to the bathroom to throw up because he doesn't 'need to hear shit like that about those parts of your body, man, gross'.

Whatever. Jared's in love and he doesn't care what Chad thinks.

***

“See you later,” Jensen says, leaning across the gear shift to press a kiss to Jeff's lips. 

Jeff's eyes smoulder, he looks like he wants to pull Jensen back in, open his mouth wide and eat him alive, but instead he swipes his thumb over Jensen's bottom lip, wiping away a tiny streak of saliva.

“Oh, hey, we still on for Sunday?” Jensen's been looking forward to it. He finally dug his old baseball glove out of his folks' basement last month. He hasn't played in years and he's missed it. He'd been a little surprised when Jeff invited him to play with his beer league team on the weekend, but Jensen accepted anyway.

“Count on it,” Jeff says. “Oh, and wear tight pants. Just because it's not play time, doesn't mean I don't want a nice view.” He smacks Jensen's ass as he's getting out of the car and Jensen jumps, turns around and scowls.

“Watch it, asshole,” He tells him. “I'm still a little raw.”

“I know,” Jeff winks and he drives away as soon as Jensen slams the door shut.

Jensen snorts as he walks back up to the corner, shaking his head and wincing a little as his jeans chafe against the reddened skin of his upper thighs. Jeff's a pretty okay guy, Jensen really does like him and he's actually good in bed. Jensen doesn't have to pretend with him as much as he does with some of the others but Jensen could _seriously_ do without the paddle.

Oh well. Jeff pays him enough that he could probably take the rest of the week off, if he really wanted to.

“Have a good time?” Misha asks, when he walks to where him and Matt and Julie are standing. Misha smacks him on the ass, too and laughs when Jensen sucks in a sharp breath.

“Prick,” Jensen says, elbowing him in the ribs. “Some of us actually need to go out and make money. Speaking of which, do you even work here, anymore?”

He's joking, mostly, but the fact is, Misha doesn't work all that often. He hangs out on the corner with Jensen a lot of the time, but he very rarely takes anybody home to fuck them. Steve, the Chinese delivery guy and DJ (Jensen doesn't really know what DJ does, but he's always on his Blackberry and he's always got cash) are two of Misha's regulars, but Jensen hasn't seen him take on a client other than those two in a damn long time.

Which makes sense, Jensen supposes. He's been doing this almost two years. He's probably bored.

“Hey,” Matt butts in, nodding to where Jeff had just driven off. “If you ever want me to take him off your hands...”

“You wish,” Jensen says and Matt 'hmm's dreamily. Jeff is handsome and wealthy. They'd all wanted a piece of him when he first starting coming by, but he picked Jensen and Jensen doesn't plan on letting his best paying client get away, not while he's still working the street.

“He into girls, too?” Julie asks. 

“Vultures,” Jensen grumbles. 

It's still pretty early, but Jared's working tonight, Jensen saw him. He waved and smiled on his way into the store and Jensen smiled back briefly before he started flirting with a john who was clearly there to pick up Genevieve.

Jensen's not proud of it, but he's not really ready to face Jared at the moment. He's more than a little freaked out by what's been going on, by what happened last time, especially. He's getting attached. That's the last thing he needs right now.

So he takes the coward’s way out and tells them, “I think I'm gonna take off.” 

“I'll come with,” Misha says. 

“Sounds good.” It does sound good. Some beer, some Wave Racer and some head sounds really fuckin' good.

They say their goodbyes and walk to the grocery store to get a cab, and Jensen doesn't look back to see if Jared's watching through the store window when they leave.

“Another?” Misha asks him, an hour later when they're parked in front of their television and on their fifth round of video games. He grabs a beer out of the fridge and waves it at Jensen.

“Thanks,” Jensen says and Misha tosses the bottle across the room, right into Jensen's raised hand.

“So,” Misha says, sitting back down. “You wanna blow me now, or..?”

“Best of nine,” Jensen says, even though he's already lost four in a row. All he's doing is putting off the inevitable, he knows, but his head's just not in the game tonight. It's stuck back on the corner, back at _Star Convenience_ where Jared's selling beer and milk and scratch tickets and cigarettes. Where Jared's smiling at people and cleaning the windows and probably wondering where Jensen is.

Fuck. He knows Jared was never just business. He's always known that, they both have right from the beginning. It's why he gave Jared his money back. But now he's gone and said it out loud, now it's out there, now he can't take it back, can't pretend anymore.

Jared's more than just business but he doesn't know what Jared _is_ exactly. He's still about ninety percent sure that starting a relationship right now is a bad, bad idea, but he's hoping he's wrong. After all, Jensen dated a hooker, for a while. And he was pretty okay with it. 

_  
“You're a_ hooker _?” Jensen asks, screwing his face up and tilting his head to the side, like he looks at Misha from a different angle that would make any kind of sense at all. No joy. “But... you're loaded!”_

_It's their sixth date. They fucked for the first time on their second, and every time since. As far as Jensen's concerned they're exclusive._

_Up until this point Jensen had been thinking that Misha was happily unemployed, living off his parents' generosity. They bought stock in Microsoft back in the day and it's payed off in spades. Now they spend their days travelling the world and sending Misha cheques and Misha mostly goofs off. Sure, he keeps himself busy enough. He has a part-time job, actually walks some neighbourhood dogs in the afternoons. That's how they met, after a particularly feisty German Shepherd under Misha's care bounded up to an unsuspecting Jensen at the dog park and tackled him to the ground._

_Jensen doesn't have a dog, hasn't had one since he left his parents' house for college four years ago but he loves dogs, misses having one around. Going to the park makes him feel a little less lonely sometimes, when he's feeling down. He's just graduated, he's fifty grand in debt and he's got job prospects, sure but he doesn't want to work for a bank or a hotel chain or an electronics manufacturer. He wants his shop, the shop he's been dreaming about since he was a teenager. But that's going to cost even more money, money Jensen's pretty sure he's never going to manage to save._

_But the dog park helps clear his head, lighten his mood, no matter what. Because come on – who could possibly be in a bad mood after hanging out with a dozen puppies? He usually makes some four-legged friends there, but Pixie was definitely more forward about it than most._

_Jensen hadn't mind at all, really. Especially when Misha was_ very _thorough, checking Jensen over for injuries afterwards and when he made up for it by taking Jensen out for the best pizza in town._

_The point is, Misha doesn't just sit around eating Cheetos, he's got hobbies: he paints – he's actually really good at it – and he volunteers building houses. He goes out with his friends a lot – museums and movies and clubs – and apparently, he whores._

_“I'm also a dog walker,” Misha points out. “I don't do it for the money. I don't keep the money.”_

_“Then why_ do _you do it?” Because Jensen can't imagine any situation where he'd be willing to sell himself like that, especially if he didn't have to. Oddly, it's not a problem for him at the moment that_ Misha _does, but maybe it will be when it sinks in a little._

_“Honestly?”_

__Duh _, Jensen thinks as he rolls his eyes._

_“Yeah, honestly. I'm not gonna make a scene and storm out or anything,” he says, “if that's what you're worried about. I just... I'm dating a hooker. That's a new one for me and I'd kind of like to... I don't know. Understand it?”_

_Misha looks surprised by that, like maybe he's had this conversation before and he was expecting a different outcome._

_“At first, it was... uh...” He stops then and blushes, ducks his head shrugs a little before he looks back up at Jensen. He's_ embarrassed _. After all the fucked up shit he's wanted Jensen to do to him in the bedroom the past two weeks, he's embarrassed to talk about this. That's kind of hilarious. “It was kind of an accident. The guy thought I was selling it and I just kind of went with it, because why not, right?”_

_Jensen snorts a laugh. He can think of a few reasons, but it doesn't surprise him at all that Misha just rolled with those punches._

_“Anyway, I got off on it, got off on the idea. You know I like... Well, you know what I like, sometimes.”_

_Yeah, Misha likes to be used, sometimes. He likes to be bossed around, told what to do, held down and treated like a toy. He likes for Jensen to take his pleasure and leave Misha begging and needy and then_ maybe _, if Misha's good, he likes for Jensen to let him come. Not that Jensen had complained, but mostly he likes it the regular way, with two active and equal participants._

_“But you could get that from anybody,” Jensen points out. “Go to a gay club and point.”_

_“But this was real,” Misha tells him. “And I liked it, so I did it again. After a while, I... Well, now I still like it, sometimes, but mostly I like what I do for them. I don't pick up the douchebags anymore. The guys I see, they're lonely. They can't connect with someone for real, for whatever reason and I like to try to help. I'm a therapist and a fantasy, all rolled into one. I like feeling like I did good.”_

_“Sex therapy?” Jensen asks, quirking his lips. “Like a community service?”_

_Misha smiles back, and takes Jensen's hand._

_“Something like that, yeah.”  
_

“Nah, fuck it,” he says, changing his mind. He tosses his controller down on the coffee table, puts his beer down next to it. “Take your pants off.”

“Jensen...” Misha starts, makes no move to do as Jensen says. “Are you alright?”

He breathes out, long and slow, shakes off his ridiculous melancholy and puts on a smile.

“Yeah,” he says and finds that he means that. Yeah, he is alright. Nothing's really changed, now that he thinks about it. Jared knows what he is, knows what he does and knows that Jensen is very much _not_ looking for a relationship. If Jared still wants to hang out sometimes, _fuck_ sometimes, Jensen can do that.

It doesn't mean they're dating, it doesn't mean anything between them has to change.

Famous last words, he knows and it might all go to shit tomorrow or the next day or the day after, but right now things are good. He's not going to mope over something that hasn't happened yet.

“Yeah, I'm good. So, you gonna take it out, or what? Can't suck it through your jeans, man.”

Misha chuckles and pops the button on his fly.

Honestly, Jensen doesn't mind losing these bets as much as he pretends he does. He likes to give head, when he gets to do it his way, when there isn't somebody with a handful of cash and a long list of twisted kinks calling the shots.

Plus, it's Misha. It's pretty incredible, because it's Misha. Sex between them always has been, but lately, since Jensen started whoring, it's turned into a pale shadow of what it once was. They go through the motions these days and every single time Jensen is reminded of what they had, the relationship he thought would last through anything and then fell apart, crumbled at their feet under the barrage of insecurity and uncertainty. 

No, he reminds himself as he pulls back to jerk Misha through his climax, he's ninety-nine percent sure that a relationship is a bad idea right now.

***

“So. What's good?” a voice asks, right into Jared's ear as he's putting away a handful of video tapes back on to the 'New Releases' shelf. He jumps forward a step and nearly drops the movies he's holding as he turns, smiling when he sees who it is. It's late Tuesday night, he hasn't even seen Jensen in days and he sure wasn't expecting a workplace visit. It's a pleasant surprise.

“Depends on what you're in the mood for,” Jared answers, teasing lilt to his voice as he leans in closer again.

“You guys have any porn here?” Jensen asks, completely straight-faced and Jared stammers and blushes. He looks around furtively, but nobody seems to have overheard him.

“Uh. No, no we... Um... there's an adult store around the corner, that...”

Jensen starts to smile, wider and wider the more Jared stammers until he realises that Jensen was joking.

“Relax,” he says. “I don't have a VCR, anyway.” Not at the shithole apartment he and Misha rent out to fuck in. “Seriously though, what time do you get outta here? You want to come over? I kind of... there's something I want to talk to you about. Tell you about, really.”

“Tell me about?” Jared asks, mind racing to a dozen different places, a hundred different things Jensen might say to him. Everything from 'I'm thinking of switching from _Durex_ to _Trojan_ ' to 'I need you to help me hide a body'.

“It's nothing bad,” Jensen assures him. “It's about the apartment, actually. It's... So can you come by, or what? I just... wanted to see you.”

Wow, Jensen _missed_ him. Jared's face lights up, he smiles so his dimples are showing and he ducks his head, trying to hide them.

“Sure, yeah. We close at midnight, clean-up and cash-out usually takes half an hour or so. I could be there, say... 12:45?”

“Sounds good,” Jensen says, then he surprises Jared for the second time that night.

He tilts his face up and presses a gentle kiss to Jared's lips, right there in the middle of the video store. Just because he can. They can do that, kiss each other, whenever they like now. Jensen doesn't have to wait for Jared to pay him, because they don't have a business relationship anymore, they have... something else. 

“Cute shirt by the way,” Jensen tells him, with a wink. “I like the little collar. And the name tag.”

Jared can only nod after him and when the bell above the door rings, signalling Jensen's exit, Jared reaches up to touch the tips of his fingers to his lips, where they tingle from Jensen's kiss.

“So that was loverboy, huh?” Chad says, coming from nowhere and slapping Jared on the back.

Jared shouts and does indeed finally drop his armful of videos.

“Jesus!” he hisses. “Don't sneak up on people, man.”

Chad raises an eyebrow and stoops to help Jared pick up the movies. _Saving Private Ryan, The Wedding Singer, The Truman Show_ and _Blade_. Jared's seen them all about half a dozen times each. They play the new releases on a loop on the store televisions when they come out. The only one Jared never got sick of was _The Truman Show_. It still makes him cry. Shut up.

“Dude, I called your name, twice.”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, I was...”

“Drooling all over yourself? Yeah, I noticed.”

“Screw you.”

“Ah, come on. He's a pretty good-lookin' guy, I'll give you that. Still think you're asking for trouble, though.”

“Maybe,” he concedes, but Jared doesn't care. Right at this moment, Jared so very much doesn't care. He doesn't care because Jensen _likes_ him, Jensen wants him to _come over_ and it's not business, they're not even pretending anymore and Jared wants to jump, literally _jump_ and hoot and call his folks and tell them he's getting married.

It's only after Chad takes the remaining videos out of his hand and smacks him on the arm that he realises he's zoned out and he wipes the ridiculous, glazed-over smile off his face.

“Huh?”

Chad rolls his eyes and gives him a shove toward the back room.

“Go,” he says. “Take off early. I'll cover for you.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, sure. I've got a date with Alona on Friday, so you can repay the favour then.”

“Deal!” Jared says, sprinting off to the backroom to change.

He quickly grabs a bag of popcorn on his way out and he manages to catch Jensen before he's gotten too far.

“Hey, Jensen!” he calls, as he sees him start to round the corner that leads to his building. “Wait up!”

Jensen turns and frowns, but then he smiles as Jared jogs up to him. His hand moves forward, his fingertips touch the back of Jensen's hand. He wants to hold it, he _does_ but it feels a little awkward when Jensen flinches slightly and he quickly draws back.

“Hey. Chad – uh, that's the guy I was working with tonight, my best friend actually – he's covering for me, so I took off early. That okay?”

“More than.” Jensen smiles and eases Jared forward with a gentle, barely-there hand pressed to his lower back. Jared feels instantly more relaxed, welcome and wanted as Jensen leads him home.

Misha's leaving the building when they get there, with a scrawny, dweeby-looking young man hanging all over him and Jared frowns over at Jensen, but Jensen just nods, greets with Misha with a passing 'Hey' and ushers Jared in through the door that's sandwiched between a Chinese restaurant and a tattoo parlour.

He hadn't noticed a stairway continuing up from where Jensen's apartment is, but there is a third floor to the building, so it's possible Jared just missed it.

Jared looks back, past Jensen to where Misha's alone now, and he looks at Jared like he knows something, like Jared's missing something and gives him a little wave. Jared nods shortly in response and follows Jensen up the stairs. He's still not Misha's biggest fan, but the animosity is lessening.

“Help yourself to whatever's in the fridge,” Jensen tells him when they're inside.

Jared does, pulls out a can of Pepsi and pops the top while Jensen starts to change the sheets on his bed.

That's... odd, Jared thinks. Why would he... Then it hits him. Does Misha...

“Dude! Does Misha use your place for... for _work_?” Oh God, he's been having sex with Jensen on a bed, a couch, a kitchen table where Misha... He shudders, makes a face like something smells bad. Yeah, that thing about disliking Misha less? Forget about that.

Jensen freezes, halfway through pulling up the top sheet and looks at Jared, eyes wide and bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“Uh, about that...” Jensen cringes. He shifts his weight from foot to foot and Jared's preparing himself for the worst, for Jensen to tell him that him and Misha are actually lovers and they live here together.

“What?!” he barks, after much too long a silence that doesn't actually last very long at all.

“That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. I was going to tell you, before now. I planned on it, but... I don't know. It was never the right moment, I guess. And I felt like telling you would make this... _us_ more real. I was kind of scared of that, before now.”

“Telling me what?”

“I don't live here,” Jensen breathes out, in a rush. “I can afford better than this, but I keep it – Misha and I, we keep it together – for work. We don't want johns knowing where we actually live and it's cheaper and easier than renting a hotel room every time, so...”

“So you guys both...” Jared breaks off and gestures feebly around the room. He doesn't even know what he wants to say to that. 

“Uh... yes? I mean, sometimes. When I'm not here, he... I changed the sheets.”

Jared cracks a smile, small at first.

“I always change the sheets, after every...” Jensen pauses then, seems to think it through and decides that sentence doesn't need to be finished out loud. Jared's grateful and his smile grows. “I have a lot of sheets.”

Jared's smile falls, after a few seconds. Jensen lives somewhere else. He can afford not one, but _two_ apartments.

“You're... not broke.”

Jensen snorts. “No. No, I'm really not. I'm sorry I mislead you, but I'm just so used to keeping all my personal details to myself. I... I do okay.”

“You can afford this place... _and_ somewhere that you actually live?” It doesn't make sense. It doesn't. If Jensen has all this disposal income, what the fuck is he doing selling himself?

“I split it with Misha,” Jensen is quick to remind him. “But... yeah. It's a cost of living. It's money that I need to spend, to keep up what I do, so...” He shrugs again, his fingers playing over the frayed edges of the pockets of his jeans.

Jared hates that. He balls up his hands into fists at his sides and he looks down at the bed, the clean sheets and thinks about how Misha was fucking someone here just a few minutes ago and how Jensen is going to fuck someone here tomorrow and how he's going home later, _home_ to somewhere nicer than this because he can afford it and Jared _hates_ that.

Is he angry? Maybe. Hurt? Probably. Jensen's been hiding who he is, this whole time. Jared's been putting himself out there and Jensen's been hiding. 

“It's a lie,” he says, stupidly. 

“No...” Jensen says, frowning. “My real apartment is across town. I'll take you there, if...”

“No,” Jared cuts him off. “I don't mean... I mean. Your life. It's a lie. You act coy and meek, you put yourself on the line and make these guys think that you need them. You make _me_ think... that you're desperate for the money, like you don't... don't have a choice, but.” He stops and takes a breath.

Jensen just looks at him, hand still clenching the corner of one pillow case.

“Everything you do with them is a lie.”

“I'm a hooker, Jared,” Jensen tells him. “Of course it is.”

“Everything you've done with me...” Jared can't finish that, doesn't want to think about how true it is. How everything he thought he knew about Jensen was wrong, false. Jensen gave that money back because he doesn't need it like Jared does, because he really doesn't need it. He's playing a part. He's acting, he's not some desperate, struggling waif, he's a conniving, devious, calculating entrepreneur. He sets his sights on people, people like _Jared_ and he does whatever he has to to reel them in, to get whatever he can out of them. 

Jared's been played, it suddenly strikes him. Well and truly played.

“Fuck you!”

“Whao!” Jensen says, hands up as he takes a step back. “Jared, calm down.”

“No. No, don't tell me to... You _played_ me, you son of a bitch!”

Jensen's jaw drops a little and he looks at Jared he's got two heads.

“What? How? How do you think I played you?”

“It's all a lie!” Jared shouts, because apparently that needs repeating. “Everything I know about you is a lie!”

“It's not,” Jensen says, shaking his head. “Jared, I... I lie for work. I have to. Nobody wants to pay to hear all about how I've got another john coming in an hour and I'd like to get this over with so I can get home to watch the hockey game. They want to hear how much I need them, how amazing they are and yeah, a lot of them feel like _big men_ when they can throw a little extra cash around. I take advantage.”

 _You took advantage of me_ Jared wants to say, but he doesn't. It's not really true, he knows that. He just feels like a fool because he let himself fall so hard for someone who really _didn't_ return his feelings, at least at first.

“But I _do_ need them, Jared. As much as I don't need any one in particular, I do need to keep my client base or I'd be out of a job. And I need my job. I need my rent and my groceries and my savings account.”

Fair enough, Jared thinks. He needs his jobs, too.

“And me?” Jared asks. “You lied to me, too. What did you get out of that?”

“It's my _job_ ,” Jensen tells him, helplessly. “I didn't... You came at me with money. I tried to treat you the same way I'd treat anyone else. But don't... _please_ don't think that's all it was. You know better.”

Jared does, is the thing. He does and he's pissed as fuck anyway, because he thought he was special enough for Jensen not to _want_ to treat him the same as everybody else. It's stupid, he knows that. Jensen's right, Jared payed him. Jared could have just asked him out on a date in the first place, but he didn't. He was afraid of rejection so he went with the sure thing: money. Of _course_ Jensen wanted him at a distance. 

Before now Jensen didn't really owe him any answers. And now... Now Jensen's telling him the truth. At least some of it.

“What else don't I know about you?” he asks. He's not really expecting Jensen to answer him. He's making a point, though. 

“I wet the bed until I was six.” 

Jared laughs then; he can't help it. 

“Right,” Jensen says. His cheeks are turning a deep pink and he fumbles as he smooths the pillows down. “So... You wanna?”

Jared laughs harder. 

“Wow. Where did your game go?” he wonders out loud, but honestly he likes it. It's nice to see Jensen bumbling a little, nice to know he's not always the perfect seducer Jared first met. Oh, he likes that Jensen as well, he fell for that Jensen in the first place but there's something about Jensen being a bit less than completely sure of his victory that makes this more real.

Jensen opens his mouth to answer, but when none immediately comes out, Jared takes pity on him.

“It's okay. I'm a sure thing.”

He strips his shirt off over his head, lets it fall to the floor at his feet. He starts to work on his pants as well, but Jensen stops him. 

“No,” he says. “Wait. Let me.”

Jared stops with his fingers poised over his open button, pinched around the zipper. He doesn't pull it down, lets his hands fall to his sides and his breath catches, his heart beats double and a tingle starts in his toes and works it's way up to his belly button when Jensen crosses to him and gracefully falls to his knees.

Jensen takes over where Jared left off, slowly slides the zipper down so the teeth come apart, one by one and when that's finished he tugs gently, just enough so that Jared's pants slip down lower on his hips. Jensen leans in then, his hands slide up over the outside of Jared's covered thighs and they make their way past Jared's belt loops. 

The first touch of Jensen's fingertips over the bare skin covering Jared's hipbones sends a jolt through him, sharp enough that he bucks and cries out, his cock growing harder, harder so the head swells and brushes up against the elastic waistband of his boxers. He's fast forgetting about why he was pissed at Jensen to begin with. Damn him.

Jensen chuckles at his feet and his fingers grip harder, pull Jared forward so he's ever so slightly off balance and he inches closer, brushes his nose against the soft skin of Jared's lower belly. Jared whimpers and his knees wobble and Jensen pulls back just enough to hook his thumbs around the waist of Jared's pants, his underwear and slip them down, over his hips and his ass and his legs, all the way to the ground.

Jared doesn't step out of them, Jensen doesn't let him. He's got his fingers digging into Jared's hips again, then back so the nails press into the soft flesh of Jared's ass and then Jensen opens his mouth, swallows Jared down all at once.

Jared keens, his hips slam forward and his hands scramble, grab at Jensen's short hair as if he'll be able to hold on, to keep from falling. Jensen rides out Jared's first two, three brutal thrusts like it's nothing at all, but Jared manages to calm himself, to slow and eventually still and when his hands have come to rest as well, draped over Jensen's shoulders, Jensen puts his considerable talents to work.

Jensen sucks, hard and then harder and then he eases up, pulls back and suckles at just the head. He dips back down again, brings a hand from Jared's hip to the underside, slides it back so his palm is cupping Jared's sac and his fingers trace further back, into his crack.

He swallows, swallows again and licks his way up the shaft, thumb pressing at the large vein on the underside and Jared's toes curl, his shoulders hunch and his mouth drops open. He's on the edge, right on the edge, but Jensen doesn't take him over, not yet. On and on it goes, minutes, hours, Jared has no idea until finally, _finally_ Jensen opens his mouth wide, points the tip of Jared's aching, leaking erection so it's resting on his tongue and he jerks him, hand a pulsing fist around his shaft.

God. Fucking _god_ it's one of the hottest things – no, _the_ hottest thing – Jared has ever seen and then it's over, he's done. He's coming, hard, intense, like a shot through his groin and it's landing inside Jensen, on his tongue, the roof of his mouth and over his teeth.

Jared can't possibly stand up anymore, once it's finished. Hell, his knees give out _during_ but Jensen holds him up so he can catch all of it, all of Jared's spunk in his mouth and then he gently lowers Jared to the floor. He helps him out of his jeans, pets the side of his face and lets him catch his breath.

“Fuck,” Jared pants. “That was... wow.”

Jensen gives him this look. This look that says 'I'm not finished with you, yet', but he doesn't talk, doesn't open his mouth and then he's lifting Jared up. Actually lifting him up and wow, Jensen's a lot stronger than Jared gave him credit for and then Jared's on the bed, face down with his knees bent and his ass in the air.

Jensen's hand is on his hip again, smooth fingers tracing the jut of bone and then there's a thumb between his ass cheeks, two and he's being pulled open. His cheeks are eased apart and then there's a blunt pressure at his hole.

“Jensen, what...” he starts, but he cuts off with a yelp and he jerks forward, away when the blunt pressure turns _wet_ and he realises that's Jensen's _tongue_. Jensen's _tongue_ is in his _ass_ and it's wriggling around and... and wow, that's even wetter and it's his come. Jensen is pushing Jared's own come back inside him and it's gross, it should be disgusting but it feels so fucking _good_.

Nobody's ever done this for Jared before. He's never asked and nobody's offered and Jared was more than okay with that because nobody should have to do this. Nobody should have to taste what that tastes like, should put their face there. Nobody should be so up close and personal with that much of him except that it feels _so good_ , better than the blow job even, almost. 

He whimpers again when Jensen pets his flank, tongue digging deeper, making circles inside him and then out again, to slick up the rim.

“Easy,” Jensen commands and Jared's shoulders lose some of their tension. He tries to relax, tries to steady his breaths and Jensen's tongue just keeps on moving, thumbs joining in now to stretch him further.

Before Jared knows it he's pushing back, pushing his wide open ass right into Jensen's face and he groans, embarrassed and ducks his face into his arms.

“Relax, Jared,” Jensen tells him. “Nothing to be ashamed of, okay? I love you like this, love it when you get so crazy. And I'm gonna make you crazy, Jared. I'm gonna make you insane, play with your hole 'til you're hard again, 'til you're wet and sloppy and ready for me and then I'm gonna fuck you. Fuck you so hard, so long you go crazy all over again, fuck you 'til you're begging me to let you come.”

The noise Jared makes next is a wrecked, ruined, garbled mess of vowels and consonants, a pathetic, needy, whimpering moan and it only gets worse, _better_ maybe when Jensen makes good on his promise.

Fuck, listening to Jensen talk like that _does_ things to him and he's hard again before Jensen's even finished talking but he's got to hand it to Jensen, he can more than back it up. The next little while (again, he loses track of time) is a blur, Jensen inflicting pleasure after pleasure on him until Jared's being filled, stuffed so full (because Jensen's kind of huge, really) and Jensen's stroking Jared's cock in time.

Jensen whispers into his ear from behind, whispers about how good he feels, how hot and tight and perfect, and thank you.

Jensen thanks him for this and Jared whimpers, weak at first, then softer when Jensen moves just right.

“Please!” he whisper-shouts suddenly, when Jensen nails his prostate. Then softer again, “Please. Please.”

And then Jensen moves faster, thrusts faster inside and tilts his hips a little. His thumb strokes over the head of Jared's cock, he hits his prostate one more time and Jared's gone, coming again, this time into Jensen's fist, while Jensen roars behind him, bites down on Jared's shoulder and fills the condom.  
Jensen gives him a few minutes, maybe takes them for himself, Jared isn't sure. Then Jensen is easing out and Jared feels the bed dip and shake as Jensen steps out of it. He'd call out for Jensen, tell him to stay, but he's too lazy, too fucked out to bother.

Besides, it's Jensen's apartment. It's not like he's going too far. Jared's eyes drift shut, he doesn't fall asleep, not quite but he jumps all the same when a warm washcloth touches between his legs, wipes him gently clean.

Jensen rolls him after, tucks Jared up underneath his arm and holds him, tight.

Jared must have been this happy, at some point in his life. He must have, but if that's true, he can't remember right now.

“Fuck, Jared, that was... I think I blacked out for a minute there. That was _intense_.”

“Mmmhmm,” Jared sleepily agrees and then he's quiet for a while, basking, enjoying that floating feeling, the steady pulse and tingle through his body that comes with bone-deep satisfaction.

“Hey, Jensen?” he asks, after a few more minutes. He asks, because he can't not, because he knows he feels it, he _knows_ that it's real and he can't keep it inside anymore, even if this isn't the right time. But hell, just after spectacular sex is pretty much the right time for anything, isn't it? “Have you been in love before?”

Jensen pulls back to look at him, answers honestly. “Sure. Couple of times.’

Jared’s eyes widen. He doesn't know why he's surprised. There's no reason Jensen shouldn't have been, but Jensen doesn't date, he told Jared himself and Jared had just kind of figured that hookers don't get attached. Stupid thing to think, he knows, because look at the two of _them_.

Plus, he has no reason to think that Jensen's _always_ been a hooker. He sure as hell wasn't born that way. He'd probably fallen in love before all this. High school, maybe, or someone he'd met at the grocery store. The cute guy who works in canned goods, Jared thinks. He's young and sweet and he blushes when Jared asks about the tomato sauce that's on special while he points to the stack at the back of the store. 

Tall and awkward and adorable without even trying.

He's just Jensen's type.

“What, you haven’t?” Jensen looks just as surprised as Jared.

Jared smiles and he can feel his face heat up even before he answers, but he has to answer. That's kind of the whole point.

“Not 'til I saw you.”

Jensen laughs, full and throaty and it wraps around Jared like Jensen's arms, fills him up, makes him warm.

“I’m gonna have to be careful, Jared,” Jensen tells him and though he’s still smiling, Jared has the feeling he’s being entirely serious. “Or I’ll be in love with you right back before I know it.”

***

Jensen wakes up early, a week later.

He hates waking up early, thinks it's inhuman, cruel and unusual punishment to have to open his eyes before ten, but his shift at _Trader Joe's_ starts at half past seven. Fuck, he hates Ty (not really, but at ass o'clock in the morning he pretty much hates everybody) and he hates getting up early. He's not a big fan of stacking produce, either, of counting boxes that come off trucks and telling customer's 'sorry, it's the hothouse tomatoes that are on sale this week, not the vine ripened ones'. 

No, he'd much rather stick to fucking for a living at the moment, but one or two shifts a month won't kill him, he figures. He's had the job since his second year in university and he still needs it, even if he doesn't want it. And Ty appreciates it, too.

It's nowhere near as good as the job Jensen used to have back in high school, clipping nails and combing fur up into cute little bows on the tops of yorkies' heads at the _Happy Tails Dog Spa_ back where his folks live, but it's a mutually benificial arrangement. Jensen shows up on short notice when someone calls in sick and Ty Olsson: Store Manager is always happy to take a call when a potential future employer or landlord or educational facility asks about Jensen Ackles. He's happy to say 'Yeah, Jensen? One of our best, He works fifty hours a week, responsible, dedicated, shows up on time every time. Couldn't live without him.' 

Ty's great. He hooks Jensen up with company health insurance, too. Friends in mediocre places, is what Jensen has. Shit, he really misses those dogs. _One day_ , he thinks.

Work's really not so bad, once he gets there. It never is. He's downed three cups of coffee already and he only has to put in about four hours before Ty tells him he found someone to cover the second half of the shift that Kenny called in sick for in the first place.

Which means he gets to go back home and sleep for a few hours before he heads out tonight.

Misha's asleep on the couch when he gets there, the lazy asshole and Jensen smacks him in the face with a throw pillow on the way to his room.

***

It's Wednesday. 

Which means he leaves the corner at ten-thirty, goes to the dark patch of alley right behind the convenience store and waits. Jake shows up, right on time, just like every week and just like every week Jared is watching through the window, pretending to organise the magazine rack.

It feels weird, now. 

Jensen can't deny that he used to like it. Okay, maybe he still likes it a little, the way Jared gets turned on watching him work, the way Jared knows what Jensen feels like, how good he is and he's reminded of all that when he sees Jensen touch someone else.

But it's also weird. There's something between them now, something more than there was before. Maybe there _shouldn't_ be but there is and there's just something... _weird_ about the guy he's... about _Jared_ watching him fuck someone else.

It's performance anxiety, is what it is, that makes Jensen fight to get hard, makes him struggle to finish and ultimately take almost twice as long as he usually does, with Jake. He does though, eventually. Pulls out and comes all over Jake's lips, moans through it, swears and pulls at Jake's hair like it was better than it really was.

When he's done he tucks himself back in, pulls Jake up so he's standing again. He grabs at Jake's loose t-shirt, the one he's wearing under his letterman jacket even though it's July and it's about a hundred degrees outside, uses it to wipe his come off the kid's face.

Jake's tongue snakes out to clean off the rest, the bits Jensen misses and then he leans in to kiss Jensen, like they've been doing for months now, but Jensen stops him. Puts a hand on Jake's chest and eases him back a step.

He knows Jake has a crush on him and that's fine, sweet even. But Jensen can't let this go on forever. He doesn't want Jake to get the wrong idea.

Jake looks at him curiously, draws his brows together and then opens his mouth to complain. Jensen beats him to it.

“When you gonna let your girl go, man?” he asks.

“Huh?” he asks, eyes snapping up from Jensen's lips. It's a moment before the words register, before his eyes narrow.

“It’s not fair to her. Stringing her along like you are.” Not that it’s any of his business. He shouldn’t care. He _doesn’t_ care. Except that he does. Jake's an alright kid. He'd be even more alright if he could accept himself, if he'd stop hurting other people because he can't.

“You know it isn’t,” he says interrupting whatever Jake had been about to say with two soft fingers over his lips. “You’re gay, man.”

“You can’t… No, I’m not. I just…”

“It’s okay. I get it. Starting halfback for your high school football team can’t come out of the closet. Parents, teammates, friends… they might take it bad. I mean, tell them or don’t, I’m not you so I don’t know, but… You got a girl. She thinks you love her. She thinks you’re being respectful, waiting until you’re married.”

Jake looks down and Jensen puts a finger under his chin, tilts his face back up. 

“But when you’re married and living in a house in the suburbs with a job at daddy’s firm, are you gonna keep paying to suck my dick while the kids are at soccer practice?”

“Fuck you,” Jake spits, slams his open palm into Jensen's shoulder and sends him staggering back, into the brick wall. Jensen looks past Jake to the store window, where Jared's standing. He's empty-handed now, looking like he's ready to throw open the back door and come see what's wrong. The last thing Jensen needs right now is a well-intention but woefully misguided knight in shining armour.

He jerks his head, one slight shake and Jared stands down, but he's still watching, intently.

“Five hundred,” Jensen answers back, flip. He knows that's not what Jake meant but it's enough of a shock for Jake to pause, start and drop his hands to his sides.

“How... how much for... You know?”

Jensen raises an eyebrow. “No, I don’t know. People ask me for a lot of freaky shit, Jake. I don’t know what you want unless you say it.”

“For... For you to fuck me?”

“A grand.”

“What?! That’s… Jensen, come on. How can that cost more?” 

“It costs more because I have to get hard, stay hard and do all the work.”

“But... you have to... to get hard and stay hard when I blow you. You only charge two hundred for that.”

That's true. Honestly, he's always had a soft spot for Jake. Sucking Jensen's cock is the only thing he's been brave enough to try, and Jensen's been going easy on him. That, and Jake was one of his first customers. He didn't really have his rates worked out yet, not that he ever sticks to them. Jensen gets paid on a very sliding scale, always has. Maybe he's really not such a good hooker after all.

“A grand,” Jensen says again, offering no more explanation. “Take it or leave it.”

“I don't have that kind of money!”

“Then ask mommy and daddy.”

“For a thousand bucks so a male prostitute can fuck me in the ass? You’ve got to be kidding. How… Jensen, I’ve been blowing you for like, a year. Can’t I maybe get a discount or something?”

“Dude, I don’t give frequent flyer miles. Why don’t you just take a few weeks off from seeing me, come back when you’ve saved up enough allowance.”

He looks torn, looks half like he'll do just that and half like he can't stand the idea of not seeing Jensen again for another month.

Jensen sighs and pushes off the wall at his back, to stand up straighter.

“Look, kid, you don't want your first time to be with a hooker, anyway.”

“I'm not a virgin!” Jake protests, but Jensen just snickers and shakes his head. Yeah, he is.

“Look, whatever. I'll... I'll see if I can get some extra cash, for next week. Maybe the week after.”

“Jake...”

“I want it to be you. Okay? Rachel, she's great. And I _do_ love her, just... I need this.”

“Up to you,” Jensen tells him, because he really shouldn't be turning down business if the kid's this sure about it. “But it's not fair to string someone along when you know you can't ever be what they need.”

Jake nods, hovers there for a moment in front of Jensen, like they're not quite finished yet. Then he turns and walks away.

There's a part of Jensen that hopes he doesn't come back.

***

Jensen knows he should take his own advice. That bullshit about not stringing people along, about not being with someone if you can't be what they need, it's not bullshit at all and he should take his own advice. And he plans to. 

He's going to break things off with Jared, now, before either of them gets hurt.

He finds Jared on Thursday, waits for him outside the video store and he's going to tell him it's over. He's got this whole speech planned out about how great Jared is and how Jensen really does care for him but he was wrong to let things go this far and they need to stop before it gets completely out of hand.

He's gone over it in his head, he's ready for it, built up his walls against the dimples and the puppy dog eyes. Jared spots him when he comes outside, locking the door behind him and his face lights up. He smiles, waves and Jensen opens his mouth to say the words, to tell him he's sorry, he's very sorry but they can't see each other anymore.

“Do you want to go out with me?” is what he says, instead. Fuck Jared and how damn good he looks in those too-loose jeans, riding low on his waist.

“What, you mean like... _out_ out?” Jared asks. “As in... _out_?”

God, it's really a good thing Jared's cute.

“I mean like, somewhere not just my apartment to fuck. I mean... out for some dinner, maybe a movie or something.”

Jared's lips curl up then, slowly at the corners and then bare his teeth so he's smiling wide. His eyes glint and _fuck_ his dimples, fuck them even harder than his jeans.

“You mean like a date.” It's not a question, but Jensen answers it anyway.

“Yeah, I mean a date. Saturday, if you're not working? I'll even pick you up, spring for somethin' fancy, where you have to wear a tie. Wait, do you have a tie?”

“Do you?” Jared asks back and Jensen scoffs, because hell yeah, he's got a tie. He's got several, in fact. Nice ones. But, Jared doesn't really know that kind of thing about him, yet. “And I thought you didn't date.”

Okay, Jared's teasing him now, but that's fair. Jensen deserves it. He deserves it for being stupid enough to actually _ask Jared on a date_. Jesus.

“You know what?” Jensen teases right back. “That's a good point. I totally forgot about that. So hey, never mind, I don't know what I was...”

“No! No, I mean. Yes. Jesus, Jensen don't be such an ass.” He's still smiling though, taking the bite off the insult. “Yes, I get off work at seven on Saturday. And yes, I'd love to have dinner with you.”

“Good,” Jensen says, nodding, suddenly feeling out of place. He needs to get out of there. He needs a drink. “Right. So, I gotta go. But I'll... I'll see you Saturday.”

“You can just meet me outside here,” Jared says. Jensen nods once more and starts to walk away, but before he gets even five steps Jared calls out “Darling!”

Jensen shakes his head, shoulders shaking with laughter but he just keeps walking.

Fuck Jared's sense of humour, too.

***

The date goes well.

For the most part.

It starts out with Jensen making a complete fool of himself because Jared, turns out, can _rock the shit_ out of a shirt and tie and he's even got a pair of jeans, deep blue colour that fit him like a glove and don't have any holes.

Jensen stammers and trips over his words and maybe drools a little but after that, Jensen's charming and the conversation is easy and Jared eats like a damn horse and it goes well.

It goes so well that they hold hands all the way back to Jared's place and he gets a goodnight kiss for his troubles, before Jared disappears inside.

It's actually really... sweet.

And fuck Jared for being sweet.

***

Jared gets called into the convenience store a few days later. It's good, he thinks, because he hasn't seen Jensen since their date and he doesn't want to come off as pushy, or stalkerish. This gives him an excuse to see him, talk to him. If he's there.

He is.

He shows up half-way through Jared's shift and he leaves for a little while, but he comes back and when Jared's done working he's standing outside with one of his friends. The blonde girl is with him, the pregnant one and they're huddled around a Walkman, sharing the headphones and laughing over something Jared can't hear.

Jared smiles to himself at seeing Jensen happy like that and walks over to them.

“Hey,” he says, leaning in for a kiss. Jensen returns it, but only just and then he's stepping back, putting space between them. “Jared, this is Katie,” He says, introducing the blonde.

Jared and Katie exchange pleasantries and when they're done he turns back to Jensen.

“So hey, I'm off now. So if you want to...”

“I should really stick around,” Jensen says, cutting Jared off. “Try to make some more cash. And you should probably take off, so you don't scare away the johns. I'll see you later, okay?”

Jared flinches back, like Jensen just slapped him. Jeeze, Jared gets that Jensen has to work, he really does. Jensen's a hooker. He sleeps with people for money and Jared knew that going in. He's really got to get over this clingy and possessive bullshit. He has to because this is Jensen's _job_. It's different than what _he's_ got with Jensen. It is, and he has to hang on to that or he'll go crazy.

But. That brush off was pretty cold.

“Right,” he snaps, turns on his heel and walks away.

***

The following Monday Jared's working the afternoon shift at _Star_. He finishes at five-thirty and when he gets outside, Jensen is waiting for him.

“You want to grab a coffee?” he asks, startling Jared as he walks by. Jensen's leaning against the building, so Jared couldn't see him right away and Jared doesn't scream, he _doesn't_ , but there may be a shout of surprise involved.

“Sorry,” Jensen says, contrite. He doesn't even make fun of Jared, that's how Jared knows that something's up. Shit. He'd been hoping all that weird was in his own head. “Sorry. Uh... coffee?”

Jared agrees and they walk to the shop three door down. Jared finds them a seat while Jensen heads to the counter and he comes back five minutes later with two coffee (black for Jensen, always, and one cream one sugar for Jared, since it's only early evening) and a dozen donut holes.

“So about the other day,” Jensen starts, but Jared cuts him off with a shake of his head and his hand covering Jensen's.

“It's okay,” he says. “I understand. You've gotta work and I can't get in the way.”

“Yeah,” Jensen agrees. “But that was bullshit. I shouldn't have said that. Truth is, you hanging out with us like that? If anything, potential customers would think you were one of us. Which – I'm not okay with, by the way – but it wouldn't hurt business any.”

“So... then what was the problem?” Jared snags a honey glazed bite and pops it into his mouth.

“The problem is if we're gonna be... you know... _dating_ , or whatever then that's gotta be completely separate from my work. It's weird for me, you hanging around, even when you're just working a shift at the store. I keep finding myself looking back through the window, to check if you're watching whenever I go off with someone. I can't deal with you standing right there when it happens. It feels a little too much like I'm throwing it in your face.”

“I get that. I do, but I only ever see you outside the store. I know where to find you, Jensen, but I don't even know your phone number. I don't even know where you _live_ only where you... work. And I can't just stop by there, because I don't know if you're gonna be... _busy_ , or what. The corner is basically all the contact information I have on you.”

“Yeah... about that,” Jensen says, hiding a smile behind his coffee cup. “You want to see where I live?”

***

“Wow,” Jared says, a twenty minute cab ride later. “I think I'm in the wrong line of work.”

Jensen's place is _nice_. Nicer than anything in Jared's neighbourhood, on the ninth floor with floor to ceiling windows and hardwood floors and stainless steel appliances. He's got beautiful furniture and a huge television and if the main living area wasn't big enough, there are several closed doors connecting off the corners.

“Bathroom,” Jensen says, pointing at one of the doors. “My room, guest room, Misha's room. That has it's own bathroom.”

“You live with Misha,” Jared says, staring at the indicated door. For some reason, that's what gets to him more than anything. More than the fact that Jensen's obviously doing a lot better for himself than he led Jared to believe.

“It's his place,” Jensen answers. “He lets me rent out a room. Well, no. I couldn't afford the rent on a place like this. Misha owns it and he lets me stay here. Doesn't charge.”

“Yeah, but... Never mind. It's nice.”

Jensen gives him an indecipherable look before he heads to the kitchen. Jared can still see him, from where he's standing at the edge of the living room. He could see him from just about anywhere except the bedrooms. The suite's open concept is stunning.

“You should eat. Have you eaten? You should eat. Sit down.”

Jared does as he's told, finds a seat on the couch and _shit_ it's a comfortable couch. Way better than the third hand piece of crap in Jared's apartment, or the beat-up love seat in what he once thought was Jensen's.

Jared hears some clanging, chopping and sizzling from the kitchen but he doesn't look over. He can't, when he asks his next question.

“So uh... this place? You don't take clients here?”

“Of course not,” Jensen answers. “We're not stupid. None of our, uh... _co-workers_ knows about it, either.”

Makes sense, Jared thinks.

“So... if we had sex here, in your bed...”

Jensen comes out of the kitchen with two plates of what looks like leftover Chinese, fried rice with vegetables and what's probably chicken. Jared takes it gratefully. Jensen joins him on the couch and rests the plates on the coffee table in front of them.

“Don't spill,” he warns. “Misha's kind of a freak about stains.”

“Jensen...”

“When we fuck here, later. It's gonna be the first action that bed has seen in over a year.”

Jared coughs and picks up his fork.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, okay.”

***

They don't so much get around to the promised fucking, but that's mostly Jared's fault.

Jensen and Misha have _surround sound_. Jared doesn't even have that at the video store and he insists on watching Terminator 2, because it's his favourite movie of all time and he hasn't seen it on a screen as big as Misha's television since he saw it in the movie theatre.

It's amazing. Big and loud and full of excitement and he's curled up next to Jensen on the couch, the amazing, soft, luxurious couch and he startles when the door opens.

“You're home early,” Jensen says to Misha and if Jared's not too much mistaken, he doesn't sound very happy about that. Good.

“Slow night. So I came home.”

“That's awesome,” Jensen says, sounding like it's anything but.

“We're watching a movie,” Jared blurts out. Both Misha and Jensen turn to him, Misha with an amused smile. “Do you... want to watch with us?”

Misha does, it turns out. He sits next to Jensen and he casually touches Jensen's leg and he says 'remember when' and 'oh, this part, with Paul and the cake!' like they've got memories for just about every scene.

And that's okay, they're friends, but Jared can't help remembering Misha's comment to him, back when he was still tripping over his tongue every time he came within ten feet of Jensen. Misha had said that he used to be in love with Jensen, or that he'd thought he was. Jared's not sure if that was true, if that's still true, but something about the way two of them are together grates, and it's not getting better.

But Jensen puts his arm around Jared and he tugs him closer, tickles over his stomach and kisses his cheek when he laughs.

He gives Jared a ride home after the movie (yeah, turns out Jensen also has a car, on top of the swanky digs) and before Jared gets out of the green 1994 Chevy Cavalier, Jensen slips a piece of paper into his pocket.

It's not until Jared gets up to his room that he digs it out and realises what it is.

He smiles, bites his lip and smiles harder and yeah, he does a victory dance around his entire apartment. He's man enough to admit it.

He's got Jensen's phone number.

***

Two days later, Jared calls him and Jensen takes him out to a movie. The day after that Jensen calls Jared and he packs a lunch, picks Jared up at his apartment and takes him on a picnic at the park uptown.

Jensen takes Jared to the museum and Jared spends the entire day walking around like a T-Rex. They see each other almost every day, Jensen buys him a coffee after work, or a slice of pizza before, they go bowling and out to restaurants and shopping for groceries and jeans and they still have stupidly, ridiculously hot sex on a regular basis, but mostly they just hang out, mostly at Jensen's place.

Like boyfriends. Like that's what they are, normal, ordinary boyfriends and that's what Jared wants them to be, so very badly but as he's reminded with much too much frequency, Jensen is sleeping with other people more than he's sleeping with Jared.

It's not terrible, Jared's dealing, but he can't say there's any part of him that doesn't with Jensen could find another way to make money.

A few days turns into a week turns into a month in no time. Jared starts going to visit Jensen more often, spends the night a few times and when Jared forgets his toothbrush, Jensen gives him a spare from under the sink and tells Jared he can leave it there, for next time.

Jared leaves a t-shirt, too one time and a pair of his underwear.

He wears Jensen's home 'by mistake' and when Jensen comes to spend the night at Jared's place for the first and only time, he forgets his hoodie.

It's possible Jared hid it under the bed so Jensen didn't see it when he was getting ready to go, but who could say? Probably the same person that would say Jared sometimes wears that hoodie to bed. Whatever. It's not creepy. Jared's adorable.

Jensen told him so.

Jensen calls him on it two weeks later, when Jared wears it out one night for coffee.

“That's my shirt,” Jensen says, after he hands Jared a paper cup and they start walking. It's almost midnight and they don't have a destination in mind, they're just walking. It's nice, to be with Jensen like this, to be _dating_ Jensen like this.

“Is it?” Jared asks, looking down at himself. “I guess, yeah. You uh... must have left it.”

“Uh huh,” Jensen says, sounding sceptical. Then, “I hope you don't, like... sniff that thing, or make out with it or some shit when I'm not around.”

Jared's eyes go wide and he opens his mouth, mortified. No, he doesn't _smell_ it, not really, just... sometimes when he's sleeping and the hood part is right in his face it's hard _not_ to breathe in the deep, heady scent of Jensen, but that doesn't mean...

“Jared,” Jensen says, leaning in to bump his arm along Jared's. He's also smiling. “Relax, man. I'm fucking with you. It's cool if you want to keep it. Looks better on you, anyway.”

“You're an asshole,” Jared tells him, narrowing his eyes.

Jensen laughs.

“Come on,” he says, slipping his free hand into Jared's. “Let's go to the park and smoke a joint on the swings.”

***

“What's up with you?”

“Nothing,” Jensen answers. He closes his eyes and takes a breath, tries to force his mind back to the present, but it's tough. He jerked Jared off earlier today, felt the way his dick pulsed and throbbed and spilled all over his fingers and then Jared had looked up at him, smiled and asked him to meet his sister.

His fucking _sister_ , his _family_ and Jensen had answered 'Dinner on Sunday? Yeah, that sounds good.' _That sounds good_. What the fuck is wrong with him?

He doesn't need to meet Jared's family. They're not there yet. They probably won't ever be.

“Bullshit, nothing,” Jeff says, shifting on the bed so he's resting on his side. His paddle traces idly over Jensen's hip, over the flesh of his ass and the sting of the touch is grounding for Jensen, familiar and comfortable.

“I'm a moron,” Jensen answers. “I'm... I'm _dating_ someone.”

Jeff chuckles behind him, a warm, sweet sound and his arm encircles Jensen's waist for a moment before the paddle is back, tracing soft lines over Jensen's upper thighs.

“Touching as that is – and I _am_ happy for you, Jensen, I'm paying good money, here. So either get your head in the game, or tell me to come back later.”

Jensen smirks and curls up against Jeff, turns his head and bats his eyelashes and rubs his hand over Jeff's arm. 

“Sorry, daddy,” he says. “I guess I've been a bad, bad boy.”

“Does my bad boy need another spanking?”

“You know he does, daddy.”

***

“You ever think about what you want to do?” Jensen asks. They're sprawled out on the hood of Jensen's car in the parking lot of a 7-11 and Jensen's got a Big Gulp in one hand, the other arm is slung around Jared's shoulders. Not the most romantic date in the world, with the group of rowdy skateboarders across lot and the heavy stench of pot in the air, but it feels good against Jensen's side and it's a nice night. Jared can almost make out some stars if he squints. “I mean, long-term. If you're gonna be happy working two crappy jobs the rest of your life then great, man. I sure ain't gonna judge. But isn't there something else you've always wanted to do?”

Jared really hasn't thought about it much. Not lately, anyway, not beyond the idea that he wants Jensen there with him, whatever he does.

“What about you? You plan on being a prostitute forever?” He doesn't mean for it come out how it does, snappish and defensive. “Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant... well, what about you?”

“S'okay,” Jensen shrugs. He takes a sip of the drink before passing it over to Jared. “And no, I don't plan on doing this forever. I'd really like to go into business for myself, someday.”

Jared's eyes widen and he almost dribbles his sip of Mountain Dew all over himself. It's not like it's _that_ surprising, just... Jensen has dreams. Jared doesn't, but Jensen has goals. Lofty goals, owning a business. Who knows if he'll ever get there, Jared hopes so, but even if he doesn't at least he's thinking about a different future.

“Doing what?” he asks.

Jensen looks over at him, smiles.

“Dog groomers,” he says, and Jared laughs out loud.

“Seriously?”

“I like dogs.”

Jared likes dogs, too.

“I've always kind of wanted to be a vet,” Jared says, softly. “We had a dog when I was little, got hit by a car and he had to walk around with his back paws in one of those little wheelchairs? So, I followed him around with my toy doctor kit for weeks, taking his temperature and listening to his heartbeat.”

“Shit, that's adorable,” Jensen tells him. “Please tell me there are pictures somewhere.”

“Not that you'll ever see! Anyway, yeah. It was always kind of what I wanted to be when I 'grew up'.”

“Not still?” Jensen asks.

Jared opens his mouth to say 'no, not anymore', but he doesn't know if that's true. The truth is he hasn't thought about it in a while and even when he was younger, never really seriously. But now that he _is_ thinking about it, what he's thinking is _why not?_ He closes his eyes and tries to picture it, himself in a white lab coat with a stethoscope around his neck and a golden retriever barking happily on the ground next to him as he hands the end of the lead back over to her owner. 'All better', he'd say with a smile and give the dog a treat and the owner would thank him.

Then he pictures veterinary school, years of hard work and puppy cancer and sticking his hands inside cats to tear their reproductive systems out. He pictures Mr. Colton from back home, with the grey hair and the paw prints embroidered onto his frock and the mural of a forest painted on his clinic wall. He pictures how he saved Frankie's life all those years ago and how he still gets a Christmas card every year from Jared's family.

“Yeah,” is what he finally says, while Jensen's fingers trace the hemline on the sleeve of his shirt. “Maybe, yeah.”

There are probably some schools in the area and he knows his parent’s would be more than happy (more like _ecstatic_ ) to help out financially if he decided to go. 

And maybe one day if he had his own clinic, Jensen could work out of the backroom, maybe upstairs. Make the animals look all pretty for when their mommies and daddies came to pick them up.

It's something to think about, anyway.

“Come on,” Jensen says, leaning over to press a quick kiss to Jared's lips before he's jumping off the car and opening up the driver's side door. “Misha's out for the night, so we've got my place all to ourselves. I'm thinking strip Mario Party.”

Jared's in the passenger seat so fast he nearly rips another hole in his jeans.

***

“Banana?” Jensen asks, tossing one over to Jared before he even answers as he shuts his bedroom door behind him.

Misha's home, this time. He brought bananas, apparently.

Jensen crawls in next to Jared on the bed, peels his own banana and takes a bite. 

“Mmm,” Jensen moans, eyes half-closed. He's not even paying any attention to Jared, because, it seems, that's one delicious banana. He's exaggerating, he has to be but Jared's breath catches when he watches Jensen's lips close down over the sweet, yellow flesh. 

“You guys want some time alone?” he teases and Jensen practically deep throats the rest of it in retaliation. Jared whimpers.

“These are good. Misha went to market this morning, picked these up. Some other stuff, too. Berries and eggs and shit. I'll make pancakes, later if you want.”

“Duh,” Jared says, because when has he ever said no to pancakes? Especially Jensen's pancakes.

Jensen looks at him then, just looks for a moment and then he smiles, leans in for a kiss. His lips press to the corner of Jared's mouth, then they curl and his nose crinkles and Jared gets two more quick kisses before Jensen's gone and his mouth is full of the last bite of Misha's delicious banana.

Here's something about Jared: he's not insecure. He never has been. He's completely comfortable with how amazing he is and he's never doubted someone's affections for him, once they've declared them.

And he doesn't doubt Jensen and he's still not insecure, but this is the first time in Jared's short life that he'd been the one doing the chasing, rather than being chased. And Jensen is clearly a complicated guy with complicated relationships and Jared would just feel a lot better if he knew all the things he thinks he doesn't know.

So, he asks. He takes a bite of his own banana (and he has to admit, it _is_ really good – perfectly ripe and sweet and it melts in his mouth) and he takes Jensen's hand.

“Jensen?” Jensen tosses his own banana peel onto the table, 'hmms' absently and rubs his thumb over Jared's knuckles. “Do you and Misha... I mean have you guys ever..?”

Jensen doesn't say anything for a minute and when Jared looks over his face is carefully drawn, like he's thinking about what the right answer to that is.

The truth, Jared wants to say. The truth is always the right answer.

“Yeah,” Jensen tells him, eventually. “Yeah, we used to.”

***

Jensen had naively been hoping that this wouldn't come up. Stupid, he knows. He lives with his ex, he still trades sexual favours with his ex. There's a history there, a tumultuous history and a slightly unusual present, but he'd still been hoping Jared wouldn't pick up on it.

Because despite their video game wagers and their nostalgia, anything romantic is very much over between them.

Truthfully, it ended a long time ago. It ended a year ago, when Jensen started whoring. Which is all kinds of hilarious, in a fucked up way, since it was Misha who talked Jensen into trying out this line of work in the first place.

_  
“If you're really interested,” Misha says, with his legs wrapped around Jensen’s waist and his heels hooked around the backs of Jensen’s knees, “you could do it too, you know. It might even be fun.”_

_Jensen scowls down at him and thrusts harder, a punishing stab that only makes Misha moan and open his thighs wider. It's true, he's been asking Misha more and more about what he does, about how it all works and he's as surprised as Misha is when it's not out of jealousy, not in the least. He's just... fascinated. Misha makes so much money, enough money to get Jensen out of debt and into the next phase of his life in practically no time at all._

_He's been working at the grocery store since he was still in school and that job he was offered at Captial One Financial would be starting to look tempting, if he didn't think he'd kill himself after the first week._

_“What the hell would be 'fun' about selling my ass?”_

_“Ah!” Misha cries out when Jensen pushes in again and he splays his hands flat over Jensen’s back, urging him on. “The money, that’s what. Plus, you love sex.” He pauses to suck in a gasp as Jensen hits his prostate and the tip of Misha’s cock brushes up against his stomach._

_Jensen groans and fucks into him harder._

_“I don't think I could,” he says, breathes the words out into Misha's neck. “Could I?” He's trying to talk himself into it, has been for weeks, truthfully. Misha's been helping. Misha's kind of a weirdo._

_“It's good money, it's easy. There are definitely worse jobs.”_

_“Yeah, until we get arrested.”_

_“Up to you,” Misha says, fingers curling into the soft flesh of Jensen's ass, pulling him in tighter. “Think about it, though.”_

_“Right,” Jensen snorts and Misha laughs, reaches up to cup Jensen’s face in his hands and kisses him so slow and deep that Jensen forgets all about his dwindling bank account and possibly criminal future for a little while._

They were good, at first. It wasn't as weird as Jensen would have thought, dating a prostitute. He feel hard for Misha and by the time he find out it was too late. It hadn't really mattered to him.

The problems had started when Misha finally succeeded in talking Jensen into giving it a shot with a detailed account of exactly how much money he made every week. Jensen’s job at Trader Joe’s paid the bills, or most of them anyway, and he was by no means starving. He had enough food and a roof over his head (thanks to Misha) and he was slowly managing to pay off his student loans.

But he’d wanted to go to business school, couldn’t get another loan until his previous loan was paid off and he certainly couldn’t afford it on his own. He wanted to own a business after that and property, start-up costs, they're not cheap. The kind of money Misha was talking about would cut the time in half until he was debt-free and the desire for freedom had won out.

Besides, Misha had been right. He loved sex.

Jensen’s first week out, he’d made twice as much as Misha did. And business hasn’t slowed down since.

Misha had gotten jealous, Jensen had gotten defensive and it hadn’t taken long for more than six months of love and commitment to fall apart under the pressure and insecurity.

It got ugly for a while. They’d been lucky to salvage a friendship at all.

He's sure as hell not telling Jared any of _that_ , though, so he just wraps his arm around Jared's shoulders tighter and presses a kiss to the top of his head.

“We were together for a little while,” he offers. “It didn't work out.”

Jared nods quietly, like he's thinking about that and then a minute or two later says, “I think he still has a thing for you.”

Jensen laughs out loud at the ridiculousness of that statement and Jared huffs and pulls away. Jensen holds on tighter, smooths his hand up and down over Jared's arm.

“No, sorry sweetheart. I didn't mean to laugh at you, it's just... Trust me when I say it didn't end well. And Misha's not looking to get back together.”

“You called me sweetheart,” Jared says and Jensen blinks. Yeah, he did. “I thought you didn't like pet names.”

“I don't,” he says. He really doesn't. It just kind of... slipped out. “I don't date, either. I guess you're special.”

Jared grins and Jensen smacks him on the chest.

“Shut it. Yes, I mean that. You're... you're special, as stupid as that sounds. I'm kinda hooked on you.”

“So... are we exclusive?” Jared asks and Jensen pulls back, looks at Jared like he's lost his mind.

“Uh, you have noticed what I do for a living, right?”

“Yes, dumbass. I’m not an idiot. But that’s work, right? I mean, outside of that, is it just… you know. You and me?”

“You’re gonna be okay with knowing your boyfriend fucks professionally? Like, _really_ , honestly okay with that? Because that hasn't been my experience.”

“I’m not gonna lie, it kind of sucks. But hey, you did this before I met you and… and I like you. Hell, I _love_ you. I’ve been in love with you since the first time I saw you and I want to be with you. And if you can tell me the rest of it is just work, that all those other guys mean is a pay day, then I can deal.”

“Wow, you sound way too well adjusted.” He really does. The only explanation is that he's lying, lying to _himself_ and by extension Jensen, but Jensen doesn't want to believe that. Call him a romantic.

“So can you?” Jared demands. “Can you promise me that outside of your job you’re only going to be with me?”

He can definitely make that promise. He shouldn't, but he can. He hasn't been with anyone besides Jared outside of work since he started. Well, not anybody except Misha, anyway and he doesn't really count. 

He should say no.

“Yeah,” is what he says. “Yeah, I can.”

***

Jensen invites Jared over to his place on Friday after work to watch a movie. Jared will spend the night, they'll fuck, stay up until dawn talking and playing video games and drinking beer, they'll sleep in late. It's one of Jared's favourite things, just hanging around with Jensen, being lazy and relaxed with nothing to do and nowhere to go. Jared works so damn much that it's rare he's got more than twelve hours off in a row, but Saturday he has no hours at all and it's going to be bliss.

He takes off work early that night – Chad covering for him again in exchange for Jared taking his shift on Sunday – and he brings a couple of movies from work, some popcorn and some Skittles and he pays for the cab ride with the forty bucks Jensen gave him, for exactly that purpose.

He feels vaguely dirty over that, embarrassed that he can't even afford to go visit his boyfriend on his own, that now Jensen's the one shelling out cash every time they go out, or stay in or fuck. But Jared's not a hooker, just the broke-ass boyfriend and Jensen's pretty good about not making things awkward when it comes to who pays for what.

When he gets to Jensen's place, Jensen isn't there yet. Misha is home, however and he invites Jared in with a smile, offers him a ginger ale and a seat on the couch.

“Jensen shouldn't be too much longer,” Misha tells him. “I don't think he was expecting you until later.”

“No I... I got off early,” Jared says, but he's thinking maybe he shouldn't have. It's not even eleven yet. He hadn't thought, he hadn't stopped to consider that Jensen wasn't waiting at home for him, that maybe he was out. That maybe Jensen was fucking someone else, because Jared doesn't usually get off work until midnight on Fridays and so why shouldn't Jensen be out making some money, too? “I'm sorry, I could...”

“Nonsense. It's fine, Jared. Jensen won't mind. And neither do I. I could use some company, as a matter of fact.” Misha's smiling as he says it and it's not like his voice lacks warmth or anything – quite the opposite, really. But there's something... Jared can't put his finger on it. That same feeling, like Misha has a joke that he hasn't let Jared in on. Like Jared _amuses_ him.

“I'm thinking of repainting,” Misha says. His abrupt topic change throws Jared off even more and he blinks and looks around. “I'm thinking green, for in here. Maybe orange for the kitchen. What do you think?”

The walls in the living room are a soft blue-grey colour, with darker blue accents and the kitchen is a cheery, bright white with cherry red on the crown molding and window frames.

“I like how it looks,” Jared tells him. “I don't think you should change it.”

Misha smiles again and nods, pushes back in his chair like that was the right answer.

“I like it too,” he says. “Maybe I'll just change my bedroom. Everything's yellow in there. It's like I'm trapped in a giant daffodil.”

Jared thinks yellow is a pretty nice colour, too but he doesn't comment. Misha doesn't, either so that appears to be the end of that conversation. Misha seems oddly content and not at all uncomfortable with the ensuing silence that Jared finds strained and awkward. Which makes sense, he supposes. They're in _Misha's_ house and all.

“Does uh...” Jared eventually says, after he can't take the quiet anymore. “Is Jensen usually out this late, or...?”

“Jared, you don't need to be jealous,” Misha says, and Jared shakes his head, waves his hands in denial.

“No, I'm not. I mean... I get it.”

“Do you?” Misha asks. “Because Jensen's been doing this for a while and so far? You're the only one he's fallen for. You don't need to be jealous. You _shouldn't_ be, because if you are, _that's_ what's going to wreck the two of you, not Jensen's work.” He laughs then, kind of a mirthless sound that makes Jared a little sad. “Trust me on this. I know what I'm talking about.”

Jared doesn't know what to say to that. Misha doesn't appear to be looking for an answer though, because he picks up the remote from the table and points it at the television.

“I think _Felicity_ is on.”

Twenty minutes later the door opens and Jensen comes in. He doesn't seem to think it's unusual that Jared's sitting on his couch watching TV with Misha, just bends down as he passes by, presses a kiss to Jared's temple.

“I'm gonna grab a shower,” he says, continuing on the bathroom. “Be out in a few.”

Jared excuses himself to Jensen's room, puts one of the movies he brought into the VCR and puts the others down next to the small television Jensen's got on top of his dresser. He puts the snacks down there as well and flops down on Jensen's bed, crosses his feet and the ankles and his arms over his stomach and he waits.

Waits while Jensen showers off the smell of someone else's sex, so he can cover himself in Jared. It's okay, Jared tells himself. It's worth it, because the alternative is not having Jensen at all. It's not like he can ask Jensen to stop. Can he? Maybe if he helped Jensen find a job someplace else? He knows they're hiring at the video store... 

No. No, this relationship is still very young and Jared got into it knowing full well what Jensen did to put food on the table. It would be all kinds of selfish, not to mention creepy, for Jared to ask Jensen to make major life changes for him at this point.

Hopefully Jensen can get out, move on to something else at some point, but even if he doesn't, it doesn't change how Jared feels about him. Jared's dealing with it now, he'll just have to keep dealing with it.

Jensen comes in a few minutes later, towel slung low around his waist and his hair still dripping tiny trails of water down the back of his neck and over his shoulders. Jared's seen Jensen like this before – they've showered together a few times and Jared's stayed over almost every time he's been here – but he'll never, ever get sick of it. Jensen is perfect, to Jared's eyes.

He's tall (not as tall as Jared, but that's okay) and he's lean, muscles compact and long and spread out over his frame in the exact way it takes to drive Jared out of his mind. Jared's mouth goes dry as he watches Jensen casually fling the towel off and drop it on the ground, he bites his lip and breathes out a soft moan when Jensen bends down to pick up a pair of flannel pants from the floor.

He wants to cry when Jensen slips them on but he doesn't, because at least he stops there, doesn't bother with a shirt as he turns back to Jared and smiles, climbs on the bed with him and straddles him.

“Hey, you,” he says, eyes shining brightly like this, like this right here with Jared is exactly what he needs and he bends down and kisses him, deep this time, slow. It goes on forever and it's over much too quickly, Jensen rolling off to the side and propping himself up on a pillow next to Jared.

“So?” he asks, using the remote on the table to turn the TV on. “What are we watching first?”

Jensen hits play without waiting for Jared's answer and the opening sequence of _The Big Lebowski_ starts up.

“Sweet!” Jensen says. “I've been wanting to see this one. Hey, you want me to grab the popcorn?”

Jensen shifts to get up and as his head turns, Jared sees it. A tiny little mark, where his neck meets his shoulder. It's just barely red, but it'll get darker, Jared's sure. A hickey, maybe a bite mark. That somebody else put there.

Jared takes a breath, lets it out as he grabs the remote from Jensen and stops the tape. He should just say 'yeah, sure' and watch the movie, but he doesn't. He can't. He knows he's being stupid, but he can't.

“Tell me about your night.”

Jensen turns to face Jared and cocks an eyebrow. “Really? Like... Tell you about work, you mean?” At Jared's slight nod he goes on. “That's kind of weird, isn't it?”

“I think it's important that we're open about this.”

“Sure, yeah. I totally agree. But Jared... there's a difference between knowing what I do and... _knowing what I do_. Do you want... like, details?”

Jared doesn't say anything, mind tripping over how to answer that. Jensen's right, but still. Still, Jared's curiosity is eating away at him, driving him crazy. His imagination is working overtime, conjuring up so many pictures of Jensen with so many other people, doing things, saying things, laughing and falling in love and leaving Jared, forgotten.

“I worked,” Jensen goes on, when Jared's quiet for too long. “I was working tonight, Jared. I fucked people and they gave me money. That's plenty open, I think. That's all you need to know.”

“Who... who was it?” Jared asks. “What did they do to you?”

“It's not...” Jensen sighs, rubs his hand over his face tiredly. “I'm not trying to hide anything from you, Jared. That's not it. It's just, the last guy I tried the whole... relationship thing with, he told me the same thing, he just wanted to know, wanted to be open about it and he'd feel better, everything would be fine. Turns out he was wrong. Hearing about it is kind of what broke us. I like you, Jared. I don't want to go through that again.”

“It was Misha. Wasn't it?”

Jensen doesn't answer but he doesn't have to. He sighs again.

“Fine. It was pretty slow, really. Most nights are, to be honest. I gave an advertising executive a blow job in his Ferrari, came back and had a cup of coffee and a smoke with Gen. Then I went home with a city councilman. They're both regulars. Again, most of my clients are.” 

“What did... What did he do to you? The second one?”

“Not a thing,” Jensen answers, voice flat. “He likes to watch while I fuck his wife.”

“What?!” Jared shrieks. To say that he's shocked is to vastly misrepresent the word. He'd expected something perverse, to hear the guy tied him up or dressed him like a baby or fucked him with a cucumber or something, but that? That's probably the last thing Jared expected.

“What what?” Jensen asks, puzzled.

“You fuck _girls_?!” Jared says it like he’s eight years old instead of a grown-ass man, and just the _word_ girls is going to give him cooties. And it's not that Jared doesn't think that girls are pretty, in that way that he doesn't want to fuck, but it had never crossed his mind that Jensen might be bisexual. 

Jensen just shrugs. “Sometimes.”

“But… I thought you were gay.”

“I am. Do you think I’m sexually attracted to every single person who pays for the pleasure of my company? Because I’m not. Not even close. But, they pay well, so I do what I gotta do.”

“I can't... wow.” Jared makes a face like something smells bad and Jensen laughs.

“You should actually take this as a good thing,” he says, but Jared's having a hard time figuring out why that is, until Jensen continues. “I don't hate what I do, Jared. It's not horrible, but it's not a social hour, either. It's work. Sometimes, it's a little more work than others. When it comes to my own pleasure – sure, sometimes I take it. Because sometimes they want me to. But when it's up to me, when I get to have some fun of my own choosing? I never look for that at work. Not even before you came along.”

That makes sense. It does. But Jared doesn't feel better.

“I think you were right; talking about it is a bad idea.”

“Are you... are we okay?”

“Yeah,” Jared smiles. “Yeah, of course. Just... Can we stop talking for now?”

“Sure,” Jensen agrees, sliding a little closer to Jared and worming his arm under Jared's head. Jared lets him, curls in tighter. “Movie?”

Jared hums in agreement and Jensen hits play.

***

Jensen punches the A button twice, then B, then both together as he steers his character hard to the left. His head's not really in the game, but he's still winning. Misha is so predictable.

The really fucked up thing about the other night, for Jensen anyway, was that he'd _wanted_ to tell Jared those things. He'd wanted to tell him all about what he did that night, tell him about what he does _every_ night, because he'd wanted to Jared to smile and understand and tell him that it was all okay.

Because he likes Jared. He likes Jared more than he's comfortable with, to be honest. He feels good around Jared, feels _happy_ because Jared's like the sun, bright and warm and endless optimism and he makes Jensen laugh. He's also smart and kind and utterly and completely adorable and he has an ass that won't quit so, yeah. Put all that together and that right there is somebody that Jensen never wants to let go.

But he's not stupid. He's not naive. He's been down this road before, travelled both sides, as a matter of fact and of _course_ Jared wasn't okay with it. He says he is, he told Jensen when they agreed to be exclusive that he would be, but that just wasn't true. Even if Jared thought it was, Jensen knew better.

The music from the television changes, crescendos and Jensen smirks as his character crosses the finish line a good ten seconds before Misha's does.

“Dude, you suck at this. So bad, it's like you take lessons in sucking.”

Misha smirks back. “Oh, I don't need lessons in sucking. A fact of which you're about to be reminded.”

Jensen stiffens slightly, his chin jerks and he lets out a small chuckle. He's nervous, he realises and he doesn't know why. Maybe because this is it, this makes his promise to Jared something real, this is when he announces to his best friend that he's in an honest to God relationship for the first time since him.

“Yeah, not today, man. Not...” Not ever again? Well, that's a little optimistic. He'll leave that kind of thinking to Jared. “Not now.”

“Jared, right?” Misha asks. His smile is knowing though, so it's not really a question. Misha knows him way to well.

“He thinks he's in love with me.” Jensen rolls his eyes, like Jared's a puppy he can't get rid of, but even as he says it he knows that's not the truth. Jared _is_ in love with him, as much as he's capable at this point in his life. He's young, he's inexperienced and he lives a very different life than Jensen does. He's got some serious growing up to do and Jensen's one hundred percent sure it's infatuation that's driving Jared's desires, but what the hell difference does that make? Really, what's the difference? Jared feels how he feels, regardless of what's actually behind it and while Jensen knows it probably won't last, knows the shine is gonna come off sooner or later, that makes no difference to Jared right now.

He's in love. 

He's fearless.

Jensen is a great big chicken.

“He thinks he's in love with you, so I can't suck your cock anymore?” Goddamn Misha, sounds way too fucking amused about this whole thing. Shithead. Doesn't he understand Jensen's inner turmoil? “Jensen, no less than a dozen of your clients have fallen in love with you. But you're a one-man guy all of a sudden, because _Jared_ has?”

“Yes,” Jensen answers, simply, stubbornly. “Yeah, that's why.”

“Maybe,” Misha concedes. “Or, maybe the real reason is that you think you might be able to love him back.”

Jensen scowls at him and hits clicks _Retry_ on the screen.

“Loser does the dishes,” he says, and Misha laughs.

***

There's a farmer's market that runs every Saturday morning in the east end of the city. There are quite a few markets, actually but one of them is Jensen's favourite and the following week he takes Jared there.

They walk side by side, Jared's arm slung casually over Jensen's shoulders, Jensen's hand stuffed into Jared's back pocket and they poke around the stands, taste the samples. Jensen tells Jared to pick out whatever he wants, as much as he wants from all over the market and that Jensen's cooking dinner for him that night.

Jared laughs and he moans when he bites into a slice of tomato, red and juicy and sweet. His eyes even shut for a minute and Jensen doesn't blame him, because those tomatoes from Kenstingon Farm are seriously the best Jensen has ever tasted.

Jared picks up a few, Jensen adds a few more. Jared grabs a cucumber next, then some peppers, apples and berries and onions and potatoes and when Jensen's shopping bags are nearly full, they head inside, where Jared fills them to overflowing with cheeses and meats and syrups and jams.

He tops it off with a fresh loaf of bread. That can't fit in the bag, so Jared offers to carry it.

“Wow, thanks,” Jensen deadpans and Jared laughs again. God, Jensen loves the way Jared laughs. It's contagious, so Jensen laughs back. He stops laughing when he hears someone call his name, but his smile doesn't fade as he scans the crowd for whoever it was.

“Jensen!” gets called out again, and this time Jared looks, too.

It's Jeff, making his way around a man selling loaf cakes and waving, casually.

“Jeff, hey,” he answers. He grins and makes an aborted motion with his arms, loaded down with groceries. He shrugs, as if to say 'I'd shake your hand, but...'

Jeff laughs and claps him on the arm and Jensen leans into it, just enough to be polite. “What’s goin’ on, man?”

“Same old same old. Pickin' up some apples. My sister and her boy are comin' over later, gonna bake some pies for their church bake sale. Unless you cleaned them out, that is.” He looks pointedly at Jensen's bounty and they both laugh.

“Nah, I think we might have left you one or two.”

Jared clears his throat, kicks his foot out and hits Jensen's shoe, without any subtlety at all. Jensen looks at him and laughs, shaking his head. “Fuck, where are my manners. Jared, Jeff – Jeff, Jared.”

Jeff holds out his hand and Jared looks kind of blank as he puts his hand in Jeff’s, but Jeff just grips it tight and smiles wider, shaking it hard.

It takes Jared a minute, but he smiles back. It's not the kind of smile Jensen's used to seeing on him. “Nice to meet you.”

“Same here,” Jeff answers. Then he looks over at Jensen. “So this is the new beau, huh?”

Jensen can feel his face warm up as it goes flush, but he nods. Jared steps closer, like he has permission now that it's out there, what they are.

“Yeah, he... Yeah. Look, it was great seeing you, man, but we should get going.”

“Sure, take care, Jensen.” Jensen nods and he starts to turn away, but Jeff speaks again so he turns back. “Hey, I could use a fourth this Saturday if you're interested. T-off''s at six thirty.”

Jensen looks at Jeff like he's lost his mind and Jared's hand goes to his shoulder, fingers digging in a little too hard, holding on. “Fuck, you know I don't get up that early.”

“Well if you change your mind, you know where we'll be.”

Jeff smiles and Jensen nods and Jared follows behind him, hand sliding down to hold Jensen's arm at the elbow as they walk away.

“So…” Jared prompts, after they're back in the car, on their way back to Jensen's place. Jensen doesn't take the bait, so Jared goes on. “Who was that?”

“Huh?” Jensen's distracted with turning left out of the parking lot onto the main street so it takes a minute to actually hear what Jared's said. “Oh, Jeff. I told you that.”

“Right, you said. How do you know him?”

Okay, this is that kind of thing, right? That kind of thing they decided it was a bad idea to talk about?

“He’s a client, right?”

Jensen flinches and Jared must know he's right. “Jared. Didn't we agree not to talk about this?”

“He’s Jeff. That's... he's the guy with the paddle and the… _daddy_. Isn't he?”

“Jesus Christ!” Jensen says, nearly swerving the car into the oncoming lane. “Who told you that? God, don’t even bother. I’m gonna kill Misha.”

“You guys seemed… friendly.”

Jensen frowns, signals and turns right on the next street. “Dude, trust me, he wasn’t hitting me up for sex in the middle of a farmer’s market.”

“I don’t mean in a sexy way. I mean… you guys were friendly. Like actual _friends_ are. He pays you for sex and then you're... what? Golf buddies on the weekends? Isn’t that weird?”

“We’re not friends. We’re… business acquaintances, I guess. We get along, sure. I like him. He’s a nice guy. He likes me. It helps, considering we fuck a few times a month. I don’t typically take on clients I don’t like in some way. I can afford to be choosey, you know.”

“Yeah,” Jared mumbles under his breath, but Jensen hears him anyway. “Maybe that’s what bothers me.”

“Jared...” Jensen sighs, but he doesn't know where to go from there. Telling Jared not to be jealous is ridiculous. Reminding Jared that he said he'd be fine with all this is ridiculous. _Jensen knew better_. The fact that Jared feels this way, insecure and foolish and powerless, that's all Jensen's fault because he knew better and he went and fell for Jared anyway.

“I want to watch.”

“Huh?” Jensen asks, because Jared possibly mean what that sounds like. “Watch?”

“Yeah. You and him. I wanna come with you sometime and… watch.”

“Jared, come on. You can't possibly think that's a good idea.”

“I mean, it’s work, so I can pay you if you want, but I…”

Jensen grips the steering wheel tight, fingers digging into the leather covering so hard it creaks. He doesn't look at Jared and his voice is hard and sharp when he says, “Okay, I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that.”

Jared hesitates, opens his mouth so speak but only the barest hint of a sound comes out. He stops and takes a breath.

“Jensen, please,” he finally says. “I just… I think I need to see it.”

“But why? I mean, don’t tell me you’re jealous. You know what I do, you've known since before we got together and you told me, _told me_ that you'd be fine. I understand if you're not, trust me I do. But you need to let me know. If you're not okay, you need to let me know.”

“No, that’s not… or maybe it is. I’m just curious, I guess. I want to know what it's like, for you. Maybe it'll help me understand.”

“Jared, the only thing you need to understand is that I want to be with you. Jeff, everyone else, they have nothing to do with us.” His grip on the steering wheel loosens and he reaches his right hand out, puts it down over Jared's on Jared's thigh and laces their fingers together. “Please, believe me when I tell you you have _nothing_ to be worried about.”

“Okay,” Jared says, but it's quiet, subdued. “Yeah, okay.” Then he squeezes Jensen's hand and his voice brightens just a little. “Think you can turn all that stuff we bought into a pizza?”

It'll take a little doing, but Jensen thinks he can make it work. For Jared, he's sure as hell going to try.

***

Jensen walks by the alley every Wednesday night, half expecting Jake to show. He doesn't. For three weeks he doesn't and Jensen's glad. It's good, that the kid's moving on, good that he's given up on Jensen, on chasing something he can't have. Maybe he'll find something real, but Jensen's not counting on it.

For three weeks Jensen's glad, but on the fourth week, Jake is there, waiting behind the store as Jensen peeks around the corner. Jake gives him a shy wave and Jensen's eyes go a little wide, but he smiles and heads over.

“Long time no see,” he says, low and sultry. He stops in front of Jake and angles his hips forward, brushes slightly against Jake's side. He really can't turn it off, not when he's working. It's natural, now.

“Yeah, sorry. I came as soon as I.... I have a thousand. That's what you said, right? A thousand?”

Jensen looks at him, eyes focused and calculating and Jake squirms slightly under the intensity.

“Are you sure, absolutely _sure_ this is what you want?”

Jake swallows and his eyes don't leave Jensen's when he nods.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure.”

“Come on then,” Jensen says, putting an arm on Jake's elbow to turn him in the right direction. He glances back at the store window and there's Jared, watching as always. “I've got a place nearby.”

It's nice. Jake is lovely and responsive and his openness and vulnerability really are incredibly beautiful. Jensen does his job. He does the best he can to make this a good experience for Jake, takes him slow and sweet until Jake is whimpering and incoherent. Jensen does his job, he gets hard and he stays hard and he does all the work, but he doesn't come.

He fakes it, disposes of the condom before Jake can see that it's empty and he tells Jake how wonderful it was, how wonderful _he_ was.

Then he tells Jake not to come back.

By the way Jake smiles at him, bittersweet and resigned, he suspects he didn't have to.

***

Jared's startled when his phone rings at a quarter to one on Thursday morning.

He wasn't sleeping, even though he's been home since eleven. He wasn't even working tonight, just hanging out at the store shooting the shit with Travis and watching for Jensen. He took off shortly after Jensen left with the kid.

Since then, he's been working on the crossword puzzles from all of last week's newspapers that he found in the recycling bin in the back of his building.

He picks up the phone on the second ring, getting his leg tangled in the cord as he hauls the phone over from the other side of the couch.

“Want some company?” It's Jensen. Of course it is, not that Jensen actually calls him very much. But other people call him even less, especially in the middle of the night.

Jared does want some company and even if he didn't, he'd always want Jensen.

Twenty minutes later Jensen's knocking at his door and five minutes after that they're both stripped down to their underwear, snuggled up in Jared's bed and reading through an old _TV Guide_. Not that Jared has cable, not that he even has a television, but he sometimes takes some of the old magazines Craig throws out. He likes to read about what's happening on shows he's never even seen, and the ones he used to watch when he lived with his parents. Make note of any shows he wants to check out and go to his sister's house, or Jensen's, to watch them.

“You okay?” Jared asks, after a few minutes. He's read the entirety of the Monday night programming line-up out loud to Jensen and Jensen hasn't so much as commented. He's too busy holding Jared close, tracing patterns over Jared's bare stomach with the tips of his fingers.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, fine. Sorry, just... Sorry, I'm good.” He smiles and kisses Jared's shoulder, to make his point.

“You want to talk about it?” Jared asks. Jensen makes a face and opens his mouth but Jared cuts off any protest. “I don't mean... I'm not asking for details. I'm just offering to listen, if you want. You look like... I don't know. Sad?”

Jensen's body shakes against his slightly with mild laughter and he leans down to brush his nose along Jared's collar bone.

“No,” he says. “No, I'm the opposite of sad. It was fine. Tonight was fine. Jake... that's his name, the kid.” Jensen huffs out a breath through his nose. “Kid. He's eighteen, you know. Only a year younger than you. Anyway. He got what he needed, I think. I don't expect to be seeing him again.”

That's a surprise. The kid – _Jake_ – has been coming to Jensen for longer than Jared's been in town. He was a constant, someone Jared had just kind of figured would always be there, even when Jared wished he would go away.

“Did something happen? Are you okay?” Then Jared surprises _himself_ by asking, “Is _he_ okay?”

Jensen shakes his head, ducks so he can take Jared's lips with his, slots Jared's top lip between his own, bites gently and licks over the imaginary mark.

“Everything's fine. I swear,” he says when he pulls back. “Nobody got hurt. Like I said. He got what he needed out of me. He's moving on, that's all.”

Jared thinks about it for a minute, pulls Jensen closer. There's only one explanation.

“You took his virginity.”

“Well,” Jensen hedges. “I didn't _take_ it so much as he threw it at me, but... yeah.”

“Do you do that a lot?” Jared asks. “De-virginise people?”

“I don't exactly make a habit of asking, but I'd guess _no_. How 'bout you?” Jensen catches under Jared's chin with his forefinger and tilts his face up so he can place a soft kiss on Jared's nose. “You ever pop anyone's cherry?”

“Trying to change the subject?” Jared asks, smiling. “And yeah, once. What about your first time?”

Jensen half-shrugs, as well as he can with Jared half on top of him. “Same as most people, I think. I was fifteen, so was she.”

“She?”

“Yeah, that was before I knew I liked guys. Or... before I admitted it to myself, anyway.” That's not something that Jared can really relate to. He's been out and proud since he was about twelve, since he had his first wet dream about Keanu Reeves and realised what his dick was for.

“So she was your girlfriend?” he prompts. He wants to hear the rest of the story. He wants to hear all of Jensen's stories.

“We dated for about six months. A lifetime, back then. And she was pretty and we got along great and my dick got hard, though I suspect we were both pretty terrible at it. We thought it was true love. We broke up two weeks later, when she went away to Spain with her family for summer vacation. Like I said, pretty typical.”

“Your first time with a guy?”

Jensen laughs a little, rests his chin on the top of Jared's head. “It was a week after that. I got drunk at a party at my buddy's house. Well, it was his older brother's party. There were a bunch of college kids there and I let one of them blow me in the tool shed, out back.” Jensen pauses, laughs again. “I was so fucking freaked out, I spent the rest of the summer locked in my room, sneaking looks at the single copy of _Playgirl_ I found in the trash outside the movie theatre.”

Jared smiles so wide his cheeks hurt. He knows Jensen is embarrassed by that but it only makes this better for Jared. He _loves_ knowing that about Jensen. Loves that these kinds of details make him a part of Jensen's past.

“What about you?” Jensen asks. “How'd you get your V-card punched?”

Jared takes a breath and his smile turns from giddy to content. It's a good memory and he doesn't mind sharing it with Jensen.

_  
It's prom night._

_It's a giant fucking cliche but Jared doesn't give a shit, because it's beautiful and romantic and everything about the night is nothing short of magical._

_He and his date are dressed in complimenting black tuxes with auburn cummerbunds and corsages. Their entire circles of friends had a table together and shared a limo and now they're back at Tammy's cottage – where her parents said it was okay to party after, so long as they're responsible, don't drink too much and don't wreck anything._

_They share another bottle of champagne and play a few rounds of charades and Jared remembers laughing, a lot of laughing and falling down into Max's lap and a hand snaking around his waist._

_He's not dating Max, they'd just gone to prom together because they were the only two gay kids at the high school but Max's hand feels good,_ really _good when it slips even lower and Jared tilts his face up, smiles a goofy smile and gets rewarded with a mouthful of Max's lips._

_He opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out into Max's and then everything is a drunken, wonderful blur and the next thing he knows he's face down and ass up on Tammy's parents' bed._

_Max is slow with him, soft and easy even though Jared doesn't want him to be. It's Max's first time too, though so Jared cuts him a little slack. Neither of them really knows what they're doing but they fumble through and by the end of the night, Jared's pretty sure he's in love._

_He wakes up the next morning with cotton in his mouth and a drum beat in his head._

_He rolls to his side and sees Max, half-awake beside him and Jared laughs, even though it hurts._

_“How are you feeling?” he asks._

_“I hate tequila,” Max answers. The words are nothing more than a pathetic growl and Jared wants nothing more than to kiss him better. He does, kisses Max's shoulder and Max squirms a little, claws at the pillow. “Ugh. Did you pop my cherry last night? I distinctly remember I was a virgin before you got your hands on me.”_

_Jared laughs harder and his head throbs._

_“Something like that.”_

_And today, looking down at his good friend Max, Jared knows that it wasn't actually love he felt last night at all. It was affection, adoration, unbelievable contentment. But not love. Still. Not a bad way to become a man._

_“Were you gentle?” Max asks and Jared laughs so hard his stomach hurts worse than his head._

_They're still friends after that. They still hang out with the gang at Tammy's and they still go to the arcade and they still sit around down at the beach when it's hot, but there's always something between them, this slight strain that doesn't go away, not until a year later when Jared leaves town.  
_

“Typical,” Jared says. “It was prom night. He was handsome. There was booze.”

“That's all I get?” Jensen asks. “After I bared my soul?”

“I hardly think you bared your soul,” Jared smiles. “But if it makes you feel better, his name was Max. And he wasn't my boyfriend, just my date. I had a boyfriend, before. I had one for almost a year, at the Catholic high school across town but we didn't actually _do_ anything. We broke up when we each decided we wanted to fuck, just... not each other. Max and I, we're still friends.”

Sort of. Jared doesn't talk to his high school friends all that much these days. Most of them are off at college and they might get together when they all go home to see their folks at Christmas and thanksgiving, but that's about it. He should probably try a little harder to keep in touch, but they're all growing up and that usually means growing apart.

Jensen must sense the slight turn in Jared's mood because he grabs the _TV Guide_ out of Jared's hand and tosses it on the floor before he crawls over top of him, pinning him in place. He works his way between Jared's legs and kisses his way up Jared's neck and says “No more talking,” and Jared wholeheartedly agrees.

***

Jensen's thought this over. The fucked up thing is that he's actually thought this over and this is the conclusion he's come to. 

Jared hasn't been pestering him, not really. No, not at all. He's been hinting though, comments and looks here and there, ever since he first asked if he could watch him fuck Jeff.

And Jared's been good. Hasn't been acting crazy or jealous or like he wants to lock Jensen in a room to protect him. Jensen thinks a lot of it probably has to do with Jake not being around anymore which is probably seriously unhealthy, but he'll take what he can get. Jared really does have nothing to worry about. Jensen's not going anywhere.

Still, Jared is curious. Thinks it will give him peace of mind, bring them closer together and hey, he used to watch him with Jake all the time, so what's the difference?

There's a _huge_ difference, but Jensen can't say that without making Jared even more anxious, so he strokes Jared's hip and sucks a deep purple bruise to the surface of Jared's neck and tells him, “Nothing. You're right, nothing.”

So yeah, Jensen's thought this through and he still finds himself here, standing next to Matt and Julie and Jared, watching Jeff's car pull up to the curb, flabbergasted at his own poor decision making.

Jensen walks over, sticks his head in the window and smiles. 

“Get in,” Jeff orders and Jensen gathers his resolve. If he's going to well and truly fuck himself, he'll need courage.

“Sure thing,” Jensen answers, tapping at the car door with his thumb. “You mind if we have an audience today?”

Jeff’s eyebrow goes up but he smiles. Of course he doesn’t mind. He’s paid extra a couple of times for the pleasure of having someone watch him beat Jensen’s ass red. That’s how Misha knows first hand about Jeff's fucked up daddy kink.

“How much is that gonna cost me?” Jeff asks, not that he cares. Jeff over pays him every single time anyway. The guy can afford it and it makes him feel good, like he’s helping Jensen out and Jensen sure as fuck isn’t gonna turn it down.

Jensen laughs and shakes his head. “On the house, man. You’d be doin’ me a favour. Jared’s been… curious.”

“Jared?” Jeff asks and his eyes widen. “Your boyfriend, Jared? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“No,” Jensen answers. He’s actually pretty certain it’s _not_ a good idea, but. “I think he’s starting to get a little insecure and he’s got it in his head that if he sees for himself that I'm not going to fall in love and run off to Canada to get hitched, he'll feel better.”

Jeff shakes his head, like he believes that about as much as Jensen does, but he nods in assent and Jensen waves Jared over. Jensen gets in the front seat, where Jeff likes him and Jared climbs in the back.

They go to a hotel. Jeff always takes him to a hotel, doesn't like to fuck where Jensen fucks other people. It's possessive, a little bit, but it's not delusional. Jeff asked Jensen to run away with him, once. Jensen turned him down and Jeff accepted that, so he's not worried Jeff's going to go all Fatal Attraction on him. And hey, the rooms are usually pretty nice and Jensen gets to spend the night there if he feels like it, order room service and pay-per-view and raid the mini bar on Jeff's tab.

It's a pretty sweet deal.

Once they're there Jensen makes short work of stripping, helping Jeff out of his own clothes while Jared sits in the chair in the corner and watches. Watches while Jeff sucks on Jensen's nipples and jerks his cock until it's hard, watches while he folds Jensen onto his hands and knees on the bed, roots through his duffle bag for his paddle.

It's smooth wood, similar in size and shape to a ping-pong paddle but it lacks the rough face and it's prettier. Jensen's used to it by now, so it's not that difficult for him to relax, drop his shoulders and scream for daddy to do it harder, spank his boy. He breathes through it when the wood collides with his flesh, again and again until his skin is red and raw and his blood feels like fire through his veins.

He's soft again, his eyes are watering from the pain but the second his breath hitches in just the wrong way, Jeff stops. He throws the paddle aside and folds himself over Jensen, wraps his arms around Jensen's middles and kisses the back of his neck.

Jeff likes him beaten, but not broken.

“You ready, baby boy?” Jeff asks? “You had enough of the paddle? Ready for daddy's cock?”

“Please,” Jensen grunts. It's rough and shaky, spit out through gritted teeth and Jeff chuckles as he slips the condom on and slides inside.

It's the same as it always is. The spanking was the same and so is the fucking and he asks for daddy to fuck him deeper and faster, to make him scream, make him feel it. Jeff complies, fucks until the cheeks of Jensen's ass feel like they've been flayed, skin torn off from the force and the friction. Inside it's not so bad. Jeff's cock feels kind of good and after a while Jensen's hard again, like he's supposed to be.

He feels Jeff's thrusts change, just a little and he knows what that means, knows his cue.

“Please daddy,” Jensen begs, hands clenching tight in the sheet while he hangs his head low between his shoulders and balances on shaky arms. “Please let me come.”

He hears Jared shift on the chair, hears the way his breathing changes he has to fight not to look.

“Mmmm,” Jeff hums behind him, pitches his hips so his cock slides against Jensen’s prostate and he lets out a high-pitched cry. It's only half-fake. “Not just yet, baby boy. You know the rules. Daddy first.”

“God. _Please_ , Daddy. Feels so fucking good.” His eyes are screwed shut tight and his breath is shallow and he’s only mostly acting. Jeff is a great fuck and Jensen really does get off with him (unlike most of the guys he’s with where he has to pretend), though he could seriously do without all the ‘Daddy’ bullshit. Jeff’s the one with the money though, so he makes the rules.

“That’s it baby boy,” Jeff coos and Jensen’s glad his eyes are shut. That way when he rolls them Jeff won’t be able to see in the mirror. Fuck. _Baby boy_. That’s even worse than _Daddy_. “Just a little longer. Doing so well. Daddy’s almost there.”

Jensen gives a sharp twist of his hips and Jeff cries out, starts to pump faster.

“Oh yeah. Such a good boy. Daddy’s so close. Where do you want it? Want Daddy to come inside you? Want to feel Daddy’s huge cock let loose inside that tight little hole?”

Jensen barely holds back a laugh because his hole is neither tight nor little, not after Jeff’s finished with it anyway and besides, talk like that always sounds so stupid to him. He takes a second to make sure his voice is going to sound appropriately strained and desperate before he shakes his head tightly and answers.

“Face,” he says lifting his head and catching Jeff’s eyes in the mirror. He sees Jared’s reflection too, off to the side where he sits and watches, and he's watching Jensen's face, not anything else. Jensen can’t really read his expression, but that’s okay. They can talk about this later, when Jensen’s not on the clock. “Get my face, Daddy.”

Jeff groans and quickly pulls out, strips the condom off and hauls Jensen around so that he’s kneeling on the floor between Jeff’s spread thighs.

“Anything for you, baby boy,” Jeff whispers. “Such a good boy deserves a treat.” He gives two or three fast pulls on his cock and his mouth falls open on a soft “Oh,” as he shoots his load. He cups the back of Jensen’s head to keep him in place as globs of slippery white come land across his face. Some on his lips, some over his forehead and into his hair. Some gets in his eye and it stings like a motherfucker but he just tries to blink it out. Jeff hates it when he breaks character right in the middle of things.

“Daddy,” Jensen whispers when he can open his eyes fully again, the come dripping down his skin, over his eyelashes. He thrusts his hips forward because he knows he’s not allowed to touch his cock, not at all, unless Jeff says so. Honestly, he’d be cool if Jeff just took off now without getting Jensen off at all, but Jeff likes for Jensen to have a good time, too and again, it’s his dime.

“Yeah, baby boy,” Jeff says and reaches across the bed to grab another condom from the box. He smiles as he tosses it at Jensen and then lies back, spreads his legs wider and hooks his hands under his knees, pulling them back to make his intentions clear. “Come on.”

Jensen carefully doesn’t raise a surprised eyebrow, just quickly opens up the condom and slides it down over his hard-on, giving it a few tugs as he stands. He’s not as close to coming as he pretended he was, but he tries to get himself to that edge as quickly as possible. Jeff likes it when he’s desperate.

He pushes Jeff up the bed a little as he settles over him, makes enough room so he can climb on, too. He knees at the edge so he can get enough grip and he pushes inside Jeff in one hard thrust. Jeff can take it. He _loves_ it. Especially when he’s all boneless and sated from a spectacular orgasm.

Jensen just hadn’t expected Jeff to want this with someone else watching. He loves taking cock as much as the next queer but he’s a bossy bastard and Jensen’s surprised that he wants to lie back and take it with Jared sitting five feet away. Maybe he’s showing off. In any case, Jensen’s glad that he’s not hiding anything from Jared. That was the whole point of this voyeuristic bullshit in the first place and maybe Jeff gets that. Jensen makes a note to say ‘thanks’ later.

“Yeah!” Jeff growls, his face scrunching up as he grinds his teeth. He's not going to get hard again, not for an hour, at least and even then, he doesn't like to. He just likes to ride out the afterglow with a hard dick inside him. Hey, Jensen can relate. “Harder, baby boy. Fuck Daddy good.”

Jensen does as he’s told, wraps his hands around Jeff’s shoulders for leverage and ploughs into him as hard as he can. His face is buried in Jeff’s shoulder and he’s grunting, trying to ignore the disgusting slide of come and sweat over his skin, still in his eye and down his chin now, while Jeff cants his hips up, taking Jensen in deeper.

“Mmm, that’s it baby,” Jeff babbles, wraps his legs around Jensen’s waist and rubs his hands soothingly over his back. He's enjoying himself, there's no doubt about that but what he really wants is to see Jensen fall apart. “Give it to me. Make Daddy scream.”

Jensen clenches his teeth harder and snaps his hips forward, driving himself closer to the edge. His dull fingernails dig into Jeff’s skin as he pulls back and slams in and Jeff does scream. Jensen has to admit, it’s pretty hot. It’s loud, low and manly and it sounds more like Jeff’s just been stabbed in the shoulder than like he’s getting fucked hard and loving it.

“Please,” Jensen begs again, because this time he really is close. Plus, he kind of wants to get this over with so him and Jared can talk this fucked up shit out.

“Do it, baby,” Jeff says, hand slapping down on Jensen’s reddened ass and pulling him in closer. “Come. Fill Daddy up.”

Jensen hisses at the sting, takes a deep breath, then holds it as he feels his orgasm creep up on him. It slams through him and he lets out a hitched cry as he fills up the condom, like he's told.

“Good boy,” Jeff praises, as Jensen goes limp on top of him. Jeff unwraps his legs from around Jensen’s waist and lets them fall to the bed, bottom half of his calves and his feet dangling off the side. “Such a good boy for Daddy.”

It’s not long, just a few seconds later when Jensen feels Jeff’s body shaking softly underneath him in a quiet laugh. He kisses Jensen’s temple as he gently pushes at his shoulder and Jensen goes with it and climbs off him. He can be lazy on his own time, Jeff told him once.

“Thanks Jensen,” Jeff says with a smile and just like that, they’re done.

Jensen lets out a breath of relief and scrambles across the bed to grab the box of tissues from the table. He doesn’t even bother to take the condom off yet, just lets his shrinking cock slip away from the latex while it starts to fall off under the weight of his come as he scrubs at his face.

“Fuck,” Jensen curses when he’s relatively clean, but still dabbing at the corner of his right eye.

“You okay?” Jeff asks, and when Jensen cracks his good eye open and looks over at him he’s already got his pants on and he’s working on his shirt.

“You got jizz in my eye, asshole,” Jensen scowls, but there’s not much heat behind it. He pushes his eyelid up a little and blots the tissue across the underside. It still stings like a bitch, but it’s getting better. “I think my contacts are fucked.”

Jeff just snorts a little and shakes his head as he heads to the washroom. “If you’re fishing for a bigger pay day, forget it.”

Jensen wants to answer that Jeff’s full of shit, because he’ll give Jensen pretty much anything he wants, but he’s cut off when the faucet turns on in the bathroom and he knows Jeff can’t hear him.

He turns around and looks at Jared for the first time since he started to take his clothes off and offers his boyfriend a shy smile. “I’m gonna grab a quick shower. I’ll be right back.”

Jared just nods at him, his face a little pale. Jensen worries again that this was a stupid fucking idea, but Jared’s not yelling at him and he hasn’t left yet, so Jensen just smiles again, tries for comforting but lands somewhere in the vicinity of apologetic and he goes into the bathroom, where Jeff's washing his face.

“No shower?” he asks.

“You offering?” Jeff returns, smirking. “Nah, I've got to get home. I like my own soaps and my lotions, and my new shower head is too good to me. I can't cheat.”

“Dude, if there was ever a question that you were gay...”

“Hey, how's your ass feelin'?” Jeff teases back, snapping the towel out to hit against Jensen's raw flesh.

“Son of a bitch!” he shouts, hopping out of the way a second too late, from where he'd been bent over the tub to turn the shower on. “Not cool. Plus, my eye's still bloodshot. I want an extra grand.”

Jeff snickers, but he pulls out his wallet and counts out four thousand dollars, leaves it on the bathroom counter and kisses Jensen's forehead before he grabs his coat and slips on his shoes.

“Take care, Jensen. See you soon, alright?” he calls, with the hotel room door half open.

Jensen doesn't even want to think about what's going on right now between Jared and Jeff, what kind of looks they're exchanging, what Jared's thinking about all this.

“Yeah, see ya!” Jensen calls back. He's already in the shower so he has to shout to be heard over the spray. He washes himself, deep and thorough and then he does it all again. One more time, after that because _Jared_ is waiting outside for him and it's not like he feels guilty, like he has to wash what he did off himself, but he really doesn't want to be covered in some other guy's spunk when he talks with his boyfriend.

He dries off and dresses and when he makes his way back into the room, Jared's still sitting there in that chair. He's looking at the bed, at the mess of tangled sheets with his eyes unfocused but when Jensen calls his name he starts, blinks and turns his head.

“Hey.” That's it, just 'hey'. Jensen doesn't know what he expected, but it was probably a little more than 'hey'.

“You okay?” he asks. “All that stuff... You know that was all fake, right?”

“God, I hope so!” Jared practically squeals. And okay, at least it's a reaction. “ _Daddy_? _Baby boy_? He doesn't have kids, does he? Because that's just... wrong.”

Jensen throws his head back and laughs out loud. It takes a minute for him to be able to straighten his face out again, cheeks sore from grinning and he wants to take Jared's hand, but he doesn't know if he's allowed.

“It's a pretty common kink, Jared. Pretty tame, too.”

“So... with other people, you do... other stuff? Weirder stuff?” Jared sounds a little bit judgemental, a little bit jealous. Not in any way like seeing it for himself has made anything better.

Fucking fuck. Jensen _knew_ it. 

“Don't, Jared. You saw for yourself, like you wanted, but that's it. We're not gonna do this every time and you've got to stop asking about it.”

“No, I... You're right. I don't even really care about that. It's just. The things Jeff wanted you to do, the way you were with him... It didn't seem like you, not the you I know.”

“That's because that was work. What you just saw, that was work, it _wasn't_ really me. You get that, don't you?”

“I do,” Jared says. “I know. But the way you touched him. It was like you were... I don't know. Super into him. You don't... you don't touch me that way.”

“Jared, don't. Nobody touches anybody that way, not for real. Nobody is actually that needy or desperate. I sell a fantasy, that's all. You're the one I touch, for real. You get that, right? I mean... that's what this was all about.”

“No, yeah,” Jared says, contradicting himself. “No, I get it. I just don't... I think I'm just gonna go home.”

Jensen knows better than to stop him.

“I'll walk you,” he offers.

“No, that's okay. I think I need some time to process.”

Jensen nods, because Jared's entitled to his space, but fuck fuck _fuck _, he _knew_ this was a stupid idea.__

Jensen calls him a cab, gives him enough money to cover it and asks Jared to please, please call him tomorrow.

***

Jared doesn't call Jensen the next day.

He doesn't call him the day after, either. He should, he knows. He _will_ , but he needs some time, is all. He needs to think about what he saw, what he knows about Jensen and what he does and he needs to work through it. 

He understands what Jensen means, when he says it's business. That much was very clear. The sex was... fuck, the sex was hot. It was intense, it was heady and passionate and hot and then when it was over... It was like they were actors and the scene had ended. The mood changed in a blink. There was still affection between them but it was different, more playful and less needy.

He believes Jensen when he says that was all a game, something that makes Jeff feel good and something that Jensen goes along with because it's his job. He knows that Jeff is no threat, nobody is. Nobody except Jared, because he _wants_ to be okay with all this, he really does, but he doesn't know if he _can_ be.

Oh the third day Jensen shows up at Jared's place. He doesn't call first, which is probably a good thing. Jared might have told him not to come and they really do need to talk.

It doesn't exactly go well.

“You want some water, or something?” Jared offers. He doesn't have anything else to drink in the apartment right now, just tap water and some Kool-Aid mix, but Jensen shakes his head anyway.

“Nah, I'm good.” He steps forward, darts and weaves awkwardly and finally lands a quick kiss on the corner of Jared's mouth. He backs up before Jared can decide whether or not he wants to return it. He looks like he might sit down on the couch for a minute but he doesn't, just hovers near the table. “Are we? Good? I haven't heard from you. Are you okay with... you know, stuff?”

Jared takes a deep breath and he honestly doesn't know what he's going to say until he says it. He's had two days to think and he still doesn't know until right now.

“No. Not really. You're right, this was a bad idea. Telling me about it was a bad idea, letting me watch you with Jake was a bad idea. And the other night? God, Jensen I can't... I understand that this is work, I get that you have to do this, that you have to make money somehow, but... But I don't want to know about it. I _can't_ know about it.”

“Jared, you already know about it. Watching was stupid and let's not do that, ever again. But I don't want to lie to you about anything.”

“No, but... could we maybe not talk about it? Just... pretend it's not a thing? When you tell me you're going to work, could we just pretend it's the grocery store?”

“Sorry, where?” Jensen asks, frowning. His expression is pinched, like he has no idea what Jared's talking about.

“Trader Joe's? I saw you there back when... You know. With the lemons? You do still work there, don't you?” Now that Jared's thinking about it, he hasn't heard Jensen mention anything about working there, not once.

“Right,” Jensen says. “Yeah, not really. A buddy of mine from college manages the place. I do him a favour and come in a couple of times a month when someone calls in sick and he does me a favour and keeps me on the books so I have a ‘legitimate’ place of employment. You’d be surprised how hard it is to rent an apartment or apply for a credit card or get approved for health insurance when you’re a hooker.”

“You… went to college?” Jared asks, gobsmacked. He hadn't expected that. College graduates have real jobs, they have options, they're doctors and lawyers and CEOs. They're not _hookers_. Also… “You have health insurance? And credit cards?”

“Uh, yeah?” Jensen says. He's still frowning, but this time it holds a vaguely insulted edge to it. “I’m a whore, Jared, not an idiot. I can handle a few calculus problems and an essay or two.”

“I don't understand. If you went to school, if you have other options then why... why would you do _this_?”

Jensen shrugs. “Look, my job? Hooking? I know what people think of it, I know how bad they think it is. And sometimes they’re right. Not for me though. I only do what I feel comfortable with, I make my own hours, the pay is good. Hell, the pay is better than I’d be making at an entry level position in most jobs I’m qualified for, so I figure what the hell?”

Jared's jaw drops. “You can stop doing this. Any time you want? Get an actual _job_ job? You could... You could make just as much money... _more_ money, doing something else. Fuck, Jensen. I'm working two shit jobs because I _don't_ have a college degree. I thought... I thought you were in the same boat, doing what you could to get by, but... But you could wake up _tomorrow_ go get a different life!”

“Yeah. But I've got a nice apartment, nice clothes, food on the table. My student loans are almost paid off, I've got an RRSP and in another year I should have enough saved up for business school, to get my MBA. I'll probably stop then, but for now, this is the life I want, Jared.”

“Jensen!” he half shouts, and he wants to say ‘then fucking do it! Stop fucking other people when you don’t have to!’ but he doesn't, not yet.

“You were okay with this,” Jensen tells him quietly. “I know lately you've been... having some trouble, but you were okay with this, in the beginning. Nothing's changed.” He's begging, pleading with Jared for this to all be okay because Jared promised him it would, when they first started. He promised Jensen that he'd be fine with things, that it wouldn't end badly, like it had with Misha. Jared can't keep that promise, though because it's _not_ okay.

“Of course it has! I thought you were doing the best you could! I thought... I thought you were broke, like me. I thought you were hooking because it paid more than minimum wage at the car wash. I didn't know the option of making that same kind of money somewhere else.”

“And now that you know I do? That I sat down and thought things through and made a mature, reasonable decision, instead of being forced into hooking by circumstances... Now suddenly you're looking down on me?”

Jared reels back like he's been slapped.

“No, Jensen. I don't look down on you. But you lied to me.”

“No, I didn't.”

“You kept things from me. That's the same thing.”

“Jared, I didn't do that, either. I mean at first, yeah, okay, but when we started to get serious I _told_ you. I showed you where I live and you _knew_ I wasn't broke. You saw me spend money, I spent it on _you_ so don't go telling me you thought I was forced into hooking to 'get by'. You made assumptions. You saw what you wanted to see. You didn't ask. If you had, I would have told you everything. Don't blame me just because you chose to stick your head in the sand.”

And that's the moment, for Jared. The moment he realises that Jensen is right, Jensen is completely right. Jared's reacting badly, he's _been_ reacting badly this whole time but he doesn't care because this is also the moment that those rose-coloured glasses come off and the reality of his relationship with Jensen comes crashing down on him.

It's not a fairy tale, he's said as much before but only now does it hit home that it's really _not_. Jensen isn't perfect, Jensen doesn't need rescuing. He has a job that Jared hates and he has it because it's part of his plan, he's got an actual _plan_ for the future and Jared only just got around to sending out for those vet school brochures last week.

Jensen's on top of things, he's put together, he's collected. Jared's a floundering, naive mess. He'd felt better about things, pretending that Jensen was one, too. Fuck, Jared was an idiot to let himself fall in love with Jensen before he even got to know him. And yes, he's seeing things a little more clearly right now, but no, he's not willing to entertain the possibility that by 'love' he really means 'infatuated with a pretty face and really great sex'.

Because he _does_ know Jensen now, better than he did a few months ago and his feelings have only grown, despite all his frustrations. He is an idiot.

And because he's an _irrational_ idiot, he blames Jensen. 

“I didn't... Fuck, Jensen how could you not...? No, never mind. I want you to stop.”

“That’s not gonna happen.” 

Jensen doesn't see things the way Jared does. Jensen's older, he's motivated, he owns who he is and he's proud of it. How can he be proud of something that makes Jared so crazy? It's not Jensen's fault but he blames Jensen anyway, lashes out even more, can't stop saying things that he doesn't really mean and knows he'll regret.

“I don't understand why you'd want to put yourself through that. Why you'd do that to yourself, when you have other options. Don't you have any self respect?”

Jensen goes quiet for a minute, his jaw clenches and his eyes turn hard. When he speaks again, his voice is eerily calm.

“I'm not ashamed of what I do. And before you go getting so high and mighty on me, remember – you paid for me, too, once.”

Before Jared can answer that one with a resounding 'fuck you', Jensen's gone, out into the hallway with the door slamming shut behind him.

***

Jared spends the next week avoiding Jensen. He calls in sick to _Star_ so he won't run into him, he doesn't answer his phone in case it's Jensen on the other end of the line and twice he sees him on the street and turns the other way before Jensen can spot him.

He's not sure where they stand, if they're still together or what's going on. He doesn't know if he wants them to be. The truth is, he's not all that upset about Jensen choosing to prostitute himself. It's a job, it pays well, Jensen's safe and happy and he seems to be able to compartmentalize pretty well (Jared excepted, of course) and if Jensen doesn't have a problem with it, Jared shouldn't either.

He doesn't look down on Jensen, he's never once thought less of him because of what he does for a living, not even knowing it was a choice.

He _does_ have a problem with it, though. A problem that has nothing to do with Jensen and everything to do with his own insecurities. He thought he could deal with his boyfriend fucking other people. He thought he could push it to the side, like Jensen does, thought it wouldn't interfere with _them_ because that was just work. Jensen left it at the 'office' every day, so why can't Jared?

Jensen won't quit. Hell, if he's being honest he wouldn't want Jensen to quit, not for him. They'd only end up resenting each other over it. So now Jared's left to decide if Jensen is more important to him than his own hang-ups, to wonder if being with Jensen is something he wants enough to get over himself and open his damn eyes.

The answer is pretty easy, really, when he puts it like that. In theory, anyway. It's the execution that's got him worried.

***

Jensen passes the cigarette he's smoking back to Misha, who takes one last drag and then drops it to the ground, crushing it under his boot.

“You shouldn't litter,” Katie says, from where she's curled up at their feet on the curb, working on her own second cigarette. Jensen wants to tell her to stop smoking and his heart breaks a little for her baby, but it's not really his business. Besides, at least she stopped drinking.

Misha gives her the finger, but bends down and picks up the butt, tossing it in the garbage can near the bus stop.

Jared walks by, then.

Jensen hasn't seen him in almost two weeks, hasn't spoken to him, either. He tried calling a couple of times, but Jared didn't answer. He'd seen him leaving the video store once, but before he could flag him down he was walking the other way, around the corner and gone.

Jensen gets it, he supposes. It breaks his heart, but he gets it. It was good while it lasted, but he saw this coming. He'd been kidding himself to think it would actually work. Obviously Jared can't handle it, like Jensen predicted and now he's done. Now _they're_ done and Jensen wants to cry and he wants to hit something.

Maybe Jared's stupid, pretty face.

Jared stops in front of the store, puts his hand on the door handle. He pauses, just for a moment and he flinches and for a second Jensen thinks Jared is actually going to talk to him, this time. But he doesn't. He opens the door and he goes inside, without a word.

“Ouch,” Misha says, nudging his elbow against Jensen's ribs. “What did you do?”

“I have no 'self respect',” Jensen parrots back Jared's words, air quotes and all. “Apparently being a whore is good enough when Jared wants a piece, but once he's getting it for free, the whole profession is below him, or some shit.”

And okay, that's not fair, Jensen knows that, but he's not feeling entirely fair at the moment.

Misha frowns, crosses his arms over his middle and then uncrosses them again.

“That doesn't sound like Jared,” he says.

“That's what I thought,” Jensen tells him. “But fuck, I asked for this. I knew it was a stupid move, starting a relationship while I'm still working and I did it anyway. I'm not surprised it went to Hell. He's been a whiny little bitch about my working since he stopped paying me and everything I do or say only seems to make it worse.” And okay, that's not entirely fair either. It's not entirely _unfair_ , though, from where he's standing.

Misha snorts, shakes his head. “Jensen, he's nineteen years old. He's in love for the first time and the man he's in love with fucks other people all day long because it's easy money. I'd be a... whiny little bitch, too.”

Jensen snickers, says, “You _were_ ,” and Misha lets out a quiet hmm of agreement.

“He wants you to quit, I take it?”

“Yeah,” Jensen confirms, then stands up straighter and turns his head toward Misha. “I'm not going to. I said I wouldn't, so I guess that's it. It's over.”

“Well,” Misha starts. “Good to know some things never change.”

_  
“Quit,” Misha tells him, voice soft and unsteady from where he's leaning against the wall by the fridge._

_Jensen's hair is still wet, skin still tacky and cool where the water evaporates. He just got home from a long night, from a pretty big payday and he's just finished showering four hours of work off himself when Misha decides a confrontation is necessary._

_“No,” Jensen answers, gets a bottle of water out of the fridge. Neither of them bothers to turn on the lights so they sit at the table to have this conversation in the dark._

_“I changed my mind,” Misha says, after several minutes of silence. “I don't want this for you.”_

_“You changed your mind since last night?” Jensen takes another swallow of his water but his eyes don't leave Misha's._

_Last night Misha had told Jensen to fuck him, he'd_ ordered _Jensen to do it just like he did with the trick from earlier that night. He'd wanted to hear Jensen tell him every detail, what the guy's come felt liked on Jensen's fingers, how tight it was inside him and how hard it was to finally come when the guy insisted. All over the guy's chest, and he'd had to come on Misha's chest, too._

_He'd said it would be hot, hearing all about it, doing it again, the two of them._

_It wasn't hot. It was fucked up._

_“Last night was a mistake. You don't need to do this, Jensen.”_

_“No, I don't. Neither do you. We don't_ have _to. It just makes life a hell of a lot easier if we do.”_

_“Easier because you'll have enough money? So you can pay off your loans, pay for more school?”_

_“You're the one who told me how quick I could make that money. I never asked you to stop.”_

_“I guess you're just more enlightened than I am,” Misha snipes. “I can't handle this, Jensen. I was wrong. Our relationship can't handle this.”_

_“You're such a fucking hypocrite, Misha.”_

_Misha doesn't disagree with him._

_“Stop.”_

_“No.”_

_“If it's about the money, I can give you money, Jensen. Whatever you need.”_

_“What, so I can be your personal whore, instead? Fuck you, too, asshole.”_

_They don't break up right then, but that's the beginning of the end._

__

After a beat, Misha goes on. “Although it's possible you're making a mistake, this time.”

Jensen ignores that. He ignores it because it's possible Misha is right.

“You're kind of an asshole,” Misha goes on. “But Jared seems to really like you. If you feel the same way... go easy on him. Try to see things from his point of view.”

“Sucks that it went down like that, for us,” is all Jensen says. 

“I think that's because you never loved me, not really.” Misha's only teasing. He _knows_ that Jensen loved him but it still stings, because maybe he didn't love Misha _enough_.

“Now I know you're full of shit,” Jensen smiles. “Alright, no more moping. I've gotta make some cash tonight.” 

He smooths out the front of his t-shirt, cranes his head to each side to crack his neck and slides his hands through his hair, trying to press down some of the messy spikes, but he probably only makes them messier.

“How do I look?” he asks, smirking as he cocks his hip.

Misha looks him up and down, very slowly like he's giving some serious thought to Jensen's mostly rhetorical question. Then, Misha answers.

“You look like... like I want to get face down on the bed, spread myself open for you with my hands so you can jerk off all over my hole. And you look like I want you to push it inside with your fingers, work me over until I can't see straight. Then, you look just a little bit like I want you ride my cock until I come, mess you up inside.”

Jensen's face twists up in something approaching horror, even though that mental picture Misha just painted is anything but horrible. It is highly inappropriate, however.

“Jesus, Misha! What the fuck?” His cheeks are flushing and his cock is growing slightly hard, despite himself. “Don't say shit like that!”

Misha just shrugs, completely unapologetic. “You asked.”

Jensen blinks and starts, doesn't know at first if Misha is actually serious, but one look into Misha's eyes tells him that yes, of course he is. Misha would fuck him in a heartbeat, if Jensen wanted to. And it's a terrible idea. Him and Misha haven't been together in months, they're finally clean of each other, thanks to Jared and he feels _good_ about that. 

But, Jared hasn't spoken to him in twelve days, enough time for Jensen to get the message that they're very much not together anymore and his heart's a little broken and Misha's safe, familiar and he always makes Jensen smile.

“You couldn't afford it,” Jensen says, smirking. It's still a joke. It could still be a joke.

Until Misha leans in close, puts his lips the shell of Jensen's ear. His breath makes Jensen shiver as he whispers, “I have two grand on me. And I'll change my order to just a hand job.”

Misha's tongue snakes out then, licks over Jensen's lobe and it's like a bolt of lightening, shooting straight through to his cock.

“Oh my God,” Katie says, standing up. Jensen had forgotten she was even there. “I thought you guys stopped fucking, but please, don't do it here. You're gonna scare off the straight ones. I gotta take a piss.” She pats her belly and waddles over to the coffee shop.

“It's a bad idea,” Jensen says, but wow. Two grand for a hand job. That's hard to turn down.

“Yes,” Misha agrees. “It is. But that's half the fun.”

***

Twenty minutes later they're at the shitty apartment above the Chinese restaurant, Misha sitting on the edge of the bed with his pants off and his legs spread while Jensen sits next to him, kisses along Misha's jaw and pulls on his cock.

There's a knock at the door and they both pull back, turning to each other with puzzled expressions.  
Again, a knock, this time followed by, “Jensen? It's me.”

Jared. Fuck. _Fuck_. He whips his hand back from Misha's dick so fast he probably gives the poor guy a wicked burn, but _fuck_. He's not an idiot – this is _bad_. If there was any possibility of Jared actually taking him back, it'll be gone if he sees this.

He shoots Misha a look, silently telling him to be quiet and sit still and Misha nods back at him as Jensen goes to the door.

“Jared,” he says, pulling the door open only a crack. “What... what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk,” Jared says, frowning when Jensen won't open the door up any further.

“Me too,” he says, breathy, relieved and nervous at the same time. “God, Jared, me too. But this is where I _work_. You know you shouldn't just show up here.”

Jared's frown deepens. “Yeah, but... wait, you're working right now?”

“Yes.”

“But... I saw you leave with Misha.”

“I...” Jensen starts, but he doesn't know how to finish. He doesn't want Jared to know, but he's not going to lie. Not anymore, not about anything. “Yeah.”

“You're working,” Jared says, eyes squinting slightly as he shoulders his way past Jensen and into the apartment. Where Misha is still sitting, with no pants and big huge boner. “With _Misha_?”

“I... he paid. Same as anybody else. That's all, Jared, I swear. Business.”

Jared laughs, a harsh, hollow sound.

“The same as anybody else? How stupid do you think I am? I told you, Jensen. I _told_ you that Misha still had a thing for you and you _laughed_ at me!”

“No,” Jensen denies. “I know how it looks, but I swear, Jared, that's not...”

“Screw you,” Jared interrupts and he turns and starts to leave.

“Jared, wait!” Jensen calls, but Jared's already pushing through the door to the stairway. “Fuck.”

He slips his shoes on and chases after him, catches up halfway down the stairs. He grabs Jared's arm from behind and Jared turns, shakes him off violently and snarls.

“Leave me alone,” he hisses. His eyes are red, his nostrils are flaring and his teeth are clenched tight together.

“Jared, please. _Please_.”

“I told you,” he says again, but this time his voice wavers, wobbly and soft.

“I swear, it's not what you're thinking. You wanted to talk, right? I think we need to.”

“Not in there,” Jared says, nodding his head up the stairs toward Jensen's apartment door. “Fuck, I don't think I can ever go back in there.” Which is fine. Jared hasn't been in there since the first time he saw where Jensen actually lives.

“Your place?”

“Not right now.” Jensen's all set to argue that yes, right now because if not now then when? After Jared's had time to talk himself out of giving Jensen that second chance he's hoping for? Screw that. “I'm really fuckin' tired, all of a sudden, Jensen. I just want to go to bed. We'll talk, but just not right now.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I'm working. Why don't you come over Thursday? I just... I need a couple of days. I thought I had this all worked out, but...”

“Jared...” It comes out wrecked, weak and he wants to force Jared to just... get over it because Jensen wants to be with him, not anyone else, just Jared. He knows Jared _can't_ just get over it, though and even though he's _wrong_ that doesn't make his feelings any less valid. The idea that he hadn't lost Jared but now he really has is making him feel a little queasy and he grabs the railing in a tight fist to fight against a wave of dizziness. “God, this is so fucked up.”

Jared doesn't say anything to that, just stands there two steps below Jensen looking up at him. His eyes are watering now and Jensen wants to touch him, take his hand or wrap his arms around him to make him feel better, but that would probably only make him feel worse, at this point.

“Okay,” Jensen says, eventually. “Okay, so. I'll see you Thursday, I guess.”

Jared just nods and walks away. Jensen watches him go.

***

Jared does have to work Wednesday, but he's off at seven. He sticks around though, does some crossword puzzles with AJ and they watch a hockey game on the small black and white television they keep behind the counter. He's there when Jensen and Misha show up and he waits until Jensen gets into a car he doesn't recognise and then he makes his move. He says goodbye to AJ and walks straight up to Misha, shoves two twenties and a ten into his hand.

“Let’s go,” he says.

Misha looks down at the bills he's now holding and back up at Jared. “What's this?”

“Fifty. For a blowjob. Isn't that what you told me when we first met? Let’s go.”

It's a stupid idea, an epically fucking stupid idea but he doesn't care. He's angry, so fucking angry with Jensen, for lying to him, for making Jared think that whatever was there between him and Misha was long over. Just when Jared had decided maybe he'd been too rash, too hard on Jensen over his career choice, he had to go and _lie_ to Jared, to _cheat_ on him, basically.

Because even if Misha was paying him, there's no way in hell that was _just_ business. And Jared kind of want to know what the big fucking deal is.

“Sorry,” Misha says, passing the money right back. “The price has gone up.”

“What? Since when?”

“Jensen’s never really been the jealous type,” Misha says, and Jared screws up his face.

“And that's relevant how?”

Misha chuckles to himself, keeps on talking like Jared isn’t even there, like he’s trapped in a memory and neither of them seems to be able to tell if it’s a pleasant one or not. “I was surprised actually, at how laid back he can be in the right situations. More than me, it turned out.” He looks over at Jared then, like he’s just remembered he was there. “But if I’m going to wrap my lips around Jensen’s boyfriend’s cock, I’m getting more out of it than a measly fifty. He's got a mean right hook.”

“Hey,” Jared says, snarling, a mockery of a smile as he leans in closer. “It's just business, right? Isn't that was Jensen's always saying? Why should he care, after what _he_ did with you last night?”

Misha pushes him back easily and Jared stumbles a little over a crack in the sidewalk. He rights himself and looks up and for just a split second, when his eyes land on Misha's Misha looks _angry_. It's gone again before Jared can be sure it wasn't just a trick of the light and Misha's talking again.

“You were wrong, you know. About me and Jensen. I don't have a _thing_ for him. Not the kind of thing you're thinking. Sex between us is... complicated. We used to be together, I'm sure he told you that.” He barely pauses for Jared to nod in confirmation. “We broke up a long time ago. We stopped sleeping together when he started dating you. Then you broke his heart and I offered him money, gave him an excuse because he needed some comfort.”

“That's bullshit,” Jared starts, but Misha just keeps on talking right over him.

“That's all it's meant between us, for a long time. We fucked because it was _nice_. We fucked because we were both a little lonely and there was no reason not to. Then, there was. For Jensen, there was you and we stopped. He was loyal to you, Jared. Completely. If you still think you might give him a chance, then you should do him the same courtesy. Don't come to me, looking to... settle the score between the two of you.”

“That's not...” Jared stops before he even gets started, because he can't lie to Jensen and he can't lie _about_ Jensen either, it seems.

“If I accepted your offer, he'd forgive you in a heartbeat. And he'd forgive me, eventually. But he's my best friend. I love him. And it's not worth it.”

He doesn't even have to tell Jared that if he loves Jensen too, he wouldn't go through with this, either.

“Well that was about a subtle as a brick to the head,” Jared says.

Misha laughs. Jared almost smiles.

“Don't make the same mistake I did,” Misha tells him. “I know you're jealous. I know you know it's irrational but you think you're entitled to it anyway. I know you wish you could lock him up and keep him away from all that because those other people don't care about him the way you do and they don't deserve him. I know you go crazy imagining what he's up to, that you're scared shitless he's going to meet someone he likes more than he likes you.

“Because sex breeds intimacy. It just does. You can't fuck someone again and again and _not_ come to care for them. And Jensen can't, either. But here's something I didn't know. Something that might not have even been true between the two of us, but trust me when I say it's true with you. Jensen cares about all of them, in some form or another, but it's nothing, _nothing_ compared to the way he feels about you. It never, ever will be. 

“And Jensen likes sex. And sometimes he has fun on the job. But he doesn't fuck them because gets off on it. He fucks them for a roof over his head and food on the table and a clean credit rating and an investment in his future. It's a _job_. You need to stop looking at it like he's cheating on you every time he goes to work. Because he's not.”

It's only when Misha says it to him, out loud, right in his face so he can't hide from it, that it dawns on Jared that that's exactly what he's been doing. He's been looking at Jensen's job as a form of infidelity. It's hard not to see it that way.

“But... With Jeff. I mean, not while he was _with_ Jeff, but. But after hours, I guess? They hang out. They play _baseball_ together, for fuck's sake. How am I supposed to be okay with that?”

Misha laughs at that. Hard.

“Oh, Jared. I know you're new to this, but you're going to have to do a better job catching on. Jensen will have crushes. It's his nature. He'll get over them just as quickly. But Jeff is not one of them. He's not even remotely Jensen's type. He's the kind of guy Jensen would choose to be friends with, outside what he does. He also turns out to be the kind of guy that has pockets full of spare cash and wants some company every once in a while. If you're worried about anybody at all, it really shouldn't be Jeff.”

“Who should I be worried about, then?” Jared asks, frowning.

Misha sighs and shakes his head.

“Only yourself.”

***

Jared gets home the next day a little past eight. He's hungry and there's nothing in his apartment to heat but he doesn't want to leave again in case Jensen calls, or comes by.

He didn't sleep last night, stayed up the whole time thinking and by the time Jensen is knocking on his door his mind has gone around and around and what he's finally landed on is that he's in love. He doesn't care what Jensen does, _who_ Jensen does, he wants Jensen anyway, even if he has to swallow his pride. He's in love and that's all that matters.

Except it's not that easy.

Or, maybe he just wants to make Jensen beg.

Jared opens the door and ushers Jensen inside.

“It's almost midnight,” he comments casually, shutting the door after him. “Working late?”

“Yeah,” Jensen says, tightly. “Working on not kicking your ass, you son of a bitch.”

Jared blinks and steps back, eyes wide. He'd thought _he_ was supposed to be the righteously angry one.

“Misha told me what you did,” he says and okay, yeah, that explains it.

“Same thing you did.” Jared's not going to bother trying to defend himself. He knows it's not the same thing even before Jensen tells him.

“Fuck you. God, Jared if you're not going to take me back just tell me, because I can't keep this up. I'm going out of my fucking mind here, hoping. And... And I know I crossed a line. Okay? I know that was wrong, what I did with Misha. But Jared, from where I was sitting, it looked like you were done with me.”

Jared doesn't say anything, still stuck on how quickly Jensen moved past the whole him propositioning Misha thing. Misha was right; he did get over it in a heartbeat.

“If there was a chance,” Jensen continues, “if I'd known there was _any_ chance, I wouldn't have. You ignored me for weeks and then... the way you _looked_ at me outside the store. Like I was disgusting to you... It _hurt_. I shouldn't have done what I did with Misha. I know that. Even without you in the picture, it was better to keep that door shut. But I was hurt and I was angry and I made a bad choice. And fucked up as it sounds, Misha was only trying to be a good friend.”

Jared might have had something to say about that. Yesterday, last week. Not now. Now he kind of gets it.

“And how do I know you're not gonna get hurt and angry sometime in the future and make another bad choice?”

“You don't. Nobody ever knows that about the people they're with. All I can do is tell you that I regret what happened. And I want to be with you. I'll understand if you can't, I will. But. Please, Jared.”

Okay, maybe he doesn't want to make Jensen beg.

“You're not the only one who made a bad choice,” Jared quietly admits. “I should have talked to you about all this sooner. _Way_ sooner. Like... months ago, sooner. It's been bothering me for a long time and I've been kind of... an entitled ass. I didn't... I didn't know how to deal with all this as well as I thought I could, I guess. And I'm sorry for that, for being a passive-aggressive dickhead instead of trying to talk things out. And these past couple of weeks, I really did just need time to work all that out. That wasn't me breaking up with you, but I can see you'd take it that way.”

“Wait, so... we're still together?” Jensen's hesitant but hopeful and Jared doesn't want to break his heart but he can only be honest. He still hasn't told Jared what he needs to hear.

“I... don't know.”

“What do I have to do, Jared? I'm sorry about Misha, I really am and that's... not gonna happen again. So what can I do?”

“The problem in the first place wasn't Misha,” Jared reminds him. As if either of them has forgotten.

“No, it was that you didn't want to date a dirty whore.” Jensen's words bite, but that's okay. Jared had kind of lost track of the fact that Jensen had his own reasons to be upset in this whole mess.

“That's not what I said, Jensen,” Jared sighs. “You know it's not. And that's not what I meant, either.”

“No, I'm sorry. You're right. But, you _do_ have a problem with what I do.”

“Yes,” Jared says, because he can't lie about it. He does have a problem. The question is:

“Can you live with it?” Jensen asks him. “I mean, is it... something you can deal with, or not? Because I'll do a lot for you, Jared. I want to be with you and I'll buy the smooth peanut butter instead of the crunchy and I'll watch _Seinfeld_ and I'll introduce you to my family and I'll always put you first. I'll come home to you at night and I'll treat you like a king and I'll _promise_ you that you're the only one in my heart. I'll do whatever it takes, but I'm not going to quit.”

“I know,” Jared says. “I know that and I'm not... not asking you to, anymore.” He's not. It sucks, it does. He's not gonna lie. But this is what Jensen does. He did it before he met Jared and it won't be forever, Jensen said so himself. And hell, even if it _was_ forever, Jared _can_ live with it, he's decided. Two weeks without Jensen was torture. And oddly, that talk with Misha really helped put some things into perspective.

“I'm not gonna pretend, either,” Jensen adds, narrowing his eyes sceptically, like he doesn't believe Jared's actually okay with it. “I know you have a problem with it, but I think it's important that we're honest. I won't go into detail, I won't tell you anything at all unless you ask, but we can't just... pretend I'm going to work driving a school bus, or something. I'm a hooker. You either can accept that or you can't.”

“I can.” He can, because the alternative is not being with Jensen at all and after these past two weeks and these unbearable past two days, he's learned that no Jensen at all is just not an option. He can live with Jensen screwing people for money, but he can't live with whatever the hell is going on between Jensen and Misha.

Misha was a huge help, he honestly was, but Jared doesn't want to take any chances.

“I hear a 'but' coming.”

“But,” Jared smiles. “You said you'd do whatever it takes.”

“Right...”

“Don't live with Misha, anymore.”

“Jared, come on. That's my _home_. Living with him saves me a lot of money. And I don't exactly have anywhere else to go at the moment.”

“Okay, so find somewhere. Find a place, it doesn't have to be _tonight_. But I don't think it's unreasonable to ask you not to live with your ex-boyfriend, who you had sex with _two days ago_.”

“We didn't have sex.”

“Close enough.” The truth is, Jared has no idea what they did, but he doesn't want to know, either. “It doesn't matter. I know you say it's over-”

“That's because it _is_.”

“But it didn't take you long to go running back to him after we hit a rough patch, did it?”

“Jared, baby. You need to trust me. I thought we were over. I know you're twitchy about Misha and I'd never do what I did if I knew we were still... us.”

“It has nothing to do with trust. I trust you to go to work every night and come home to me, I trust you to be as committed to our relationship as I am. I do. But you need to work with me, Jensen. You need to try to see things from my perspective. You need to try to understand what's acceptable, even for us, and what isn't. And you need to just... do things. Just because I ask you to. Because that's what people do, when they love each other.”

Jensen's quiet for a moment, Jared too, while he waits. He might have just pushed too far. Jensen's never told Jared that he loves him, but that's okay. He will, one day. Jared's sure of it.

Jensen smiles. He takes a step closer to Jared and he doesn't touch, but he smiles wider.

“So that _does_ mean we're still together.”

“Don't dodge the issue.”

“I'll move out,” Jensen says, immediately. “Give me a week, I'll move out.”

“You could... you could stay with me, if you want? Until you find somewhere.” It's a ridiculous offer, Jared knows that. He doesn't have the space. Also, that's a little much to spring on someone, all at once. Even if they _are_ going to get married some day.

“Give me a week,” Jensen smiles. “Can you do that?”

He doesn't give Jared a chance to answer. He grabs the back of his head and pulls Jared in, attacks Jared's mouth with own until Jared's numb and drooling and blinking lazily at the wall.

“A week,” Jensen says again. He's smiling eagerly now, nearly bouncing on his feet as he reaches back to open the apartment door. “I'll call you.”

Jared stands, stunned and grabbing after the empty space Jensen left behind. The door shuts in his face after Jensen and he jerks back.

“Oh... Okay,” he says to himself. He's glad Jensen's getting to work on this as soon as possible, he is. But he'd been kind of hoping for the make-up sex to happen _tonight_ , not next week. Jensen's getting laid pretty much every day. He seems to have forgotten that it's been weeks, for Jared.

***

It's okay, though.

Jensen more than makes it up to him.

A week later, almost exactly, Jensen calls him up and gives him an address. It's in the same neighbourhood as Jensen's old place with Misha, but it's in a smaller building, it's only a one-bedroom and there's no gym, no swimming pool and no security guard in the lobby, but that's all okay. It's Jensen's. It's only for Jensen to live in and Jensen's already got space cleared out in the dresser and the kitchen cupboards and the shelf in the living room for all Jared's stuff.

“I don't have any stuff,” Jared points out, but he's smiling, because this place is great. Jared loves it. 

“I'll buy you stuff,” Jensen says and approximately nineteen seconds later Jared's naked on Jensen's bed with Jensen hovering over him, nudging his legs apart and sucking deep, purple bruises into the hollow of his neck.

When it's over Jared's panting and sated, lying half on top of Jensen on his bed (the same bed – the same bookshelf and dresser and coat rack, too – that he'd had at Misha's place) and Jensen's hands are massaging the strain out of Jared's thighs.

“So you like?” Jensen asks, fingers dipping into the crack between Jared's ass cheeks. They don't wander, just skim the crevice and he moans again and Jared laughs.

Jared's so fucking happy that he laughs, out loud and wriggles so he's lying beside Jensen, instead of on top of him.

“What?” Jensen asks, giving Jared's ass a playful smack.

“I was just thinking... All these people, they pay you hundreds, _thousands_ of dollars, for... for hand jobs and fucks and kisses...”

“Jared,” Jensen warns, but Jared hushes him with a finger over his lips and soft kiss to his jaw.

“No, just listen.” Jared snuggles down closer, Jensen's arm wraps around him tighter and he smiles. In a perfect world Jensen would have chosen a different profession, true. But then if he had, they might not have met at all. And that would have been a tragedy.

“They pay you so much money, but they get so little of you.” Jared knows that Jensen loves him. He knows Jensen _doesn't_ feel that way about anyone else. Jared belongs to Jensen and Jensen belongs to Jared, in a way that nobody else could ever hope to. 

Jensen's arm squeezes him once and his fingers tangle with Jared's over Jared's hip. The tips trace along his bare skin and he shivers, pulls the blanket up a little higher. He nuzzles into Jensen's chest, presses a kiss there and then rests his head over the slight dampness left behind.

“Me?” he goes on, fighting a yawn and settling in to let sleep take him. “I got the love of my life. And it only cost me eighty-three bucks.”

END


End file.
